The Confessions of an Ex Addict
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: AU. Randy/John. Dwayne/John. John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die. Slash. Full List of Warnings Inside. Please Review!
1. The Early Years: The Intro To Hell

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Mark/John, Kevin/John, Glen/John, Scott/John, Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

**Part:** 1/? – The Early Years: The Introduction To Hell

**OOOO**

I never had a chance. It's like all other beauty in this cruel world. Sooner or later, it's destroyed by the darkness.

I was six-years-old when my mother died. At that time, the word 'death' was of no value to me. Naivety was a beautiful bliss that I lost the day I turned sixteen. But at six-years-old, I didn't understand what death meant. To me, it meant that mother was just in a comatose state, kind of like Princess Aurora in the castle. I didn't understand that it meant that she would never awaken. I didn't understand why there were tears in everyone's eyes.

Well, everyone but one. There was one face that wasn't in the sea of family and friends who had crowded around the bed. My father wasn't there. He didn't care. He didn't care that she was dead. My father had never loved her. I had heard the talk. He cheated on her constantly in their own bed and it sickened me, even if I didn't fully understand it. All I knew was that every time Momma had tears in her eyes, it was _his_ fault.

All of a sudden, I felt two overly-muscular arms hook around my middle. I was taken from my Momma's side and thrown to the floor. My elbow made contact with the hardwood floor with a cruel _snap_. I tried to crawl back to my Momma, but my brother wouldn't let me. I couldn't see which one it was. Ruthless arms were back around my middle and carried me out of Momma's room. I kicked blindly to try and free myself, but it was useless.

"You little bitch!" I knew that voice. It was Kevin. Kevin threw me forward after my foot connected with his knee and I landed stomach-first on the stairs. "You disrespectful little bitch!"

I scampered down the stairs and tried avoid Kevin as he came down the stairs, each movement slow and calculated. "I'm sorry, Kevin. Please don't hurt me."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Why would I waste my time with a bitch like you? The only reason I brought your ass downstairs is because Dad wants to see you."

I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Daddy?"

"Get your ass down to his study before I put the dog leash on and _drag_ you there." Kevin hissed violently.

Hurriedly, I climbed to my feet. "Yes, sir."

Dad's study was in the basement. I had only been down there a handful of times. There were no windows, only an old fluorescent lamp that flickered on and off in random intervals. It was scary. Slowly, I sat down on the top step and eased myself downstairs. But Kevin had followed me. I wasn't moving fast enough, so he kicked me on the back and knocked me face-first down the stairs. I landed sprawled out on the concrete floor in incredible pain.

"What's the matter, John?" Dad asked with a faux level of sweetness in his voice. I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably. "Who did this to you?"

"K-Kevin." I forced out weekly. The smile never fell from Dad's face.

"Well, Kevin wouldn't hurt you unless he had a reason too. What did you do?" Dad asked.

My blue eyes widened slowly. I coughed, unsurprised to find it tinted with blood. "I didn't… I just… I just wanted to see Momma, that's all." I forced out finally.

"You're mother is dead, John. She will _never_ wake up again. This isn't some idiotic fairytale. Fairytales don't exist. The sooner you learn that, the better." Dad hissed.

"But… but Momma said that…" I trailed off as Dad slapped my cheek so hard that my ears rang.

"That bitch _lied_ to you, Johnny-boy. She's lied to you since the moment you were born." Dad said each word as if it were filthy. "You can only trust me. Do you trust me to take care of you, John?"

I wanted to say 'no'. No, I don't trust you at all. "Dad…"

His hand knotted in my crop of hair and yanked my head back forcefully until our eyes met. I could feel the bones in my neck crack and grind. "Answer the damn question, boy!"

"Yes! Yes, I trust you!" I screamed out as he slapped me across the face again. "Just please… please let me go."

Dad let out a dry chuckle as he finally released me, throwing me down so that my head bounced off of the concrete floor. I shook it off and tried not to show how much pain I was really in. To Dad, pain was power. Once he found out what made you weak, he used that to his advantage. Slowly, I climbed to my feet and stood with my hands behind my back. I waited to be dismissed, because if I left before, then I would be beaten.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, Dad's attention turned back to me. He dismissed me with a wave of his hand and a few hurtful curses and I ran. I ran faster than I ever had before. I tumbled a few times on the stairs and the one time I fell down so hard that I busted my bottom lip open and knocked a few teeth in the bottom row loose. I didn't care. I only continued to run. My ability to run was my ticket out of hell.

**OOOO**

At sixteen-years-old, I learned firsthand that my father had been correct when he said that fairytales didn't exist. The brother that I was closest in age with, Kevin, continued to torment me at home. And somehow, at school, the other students had found out that I was homosexual. After Phys. Ed., the boys took my clothes while I was in the shower and threw them all over the locker room with open condom wrappers to make me look like a slut.

At that time, my father truly had me convinced that he was the only one that I could trust. Not my brothers. Not my friends (not that I ever had any). Nobody. So, naturally, he was the first one who came to mind when the vicious hate from the other students became a little more than I could bear. After school on the day of the Phys. Ed. Incident, I found myself in his study once more. This time, however, I was unscathed.

"Dad?" I asked softly. I had always been the most reserved of the family.

"What is it, John? Can't you see that I'm busy?" Dad shot back. Too busy for me, yes. But for any other son, he would throw all of his work aside and come to their aid immediately.

"You told me that I could always come to you with my issues, right? No matter what it was, I could always talk to you?" I asked. Dad must've realized that I wasn't about to disappear, because he threw the papers off of the desk.

"I also told you that when Daddy's busy, he's not to be bothered. I see how well you listened to that rule." Dad hissed.

A tremor of insecurity shot through me, but I tried my best to quell it. "I'm sorry, Dad. This is important."

Dad made his fingers into a steeple and chewed on the end of his cigar. He had always been an intimidating, bulky man… but this time he looked ten times worse. "What do you want, John?"

"Dad… I have a confession to make." Dad made a motion that meant that I should spit it out. "I'm gay."

If it was possible, all of the color drained out of Dad's face at once. And then, in a flash, it turned an obnoxious shade of purple. I was fearful for what this meant and, as it turned out, I had every reason to be. Dad stormed out from behind his desk and took me by the hair, which was a little bit more difficult now that I had a buzz cut, and hauled me over to the room in the corner of the basement. It was known only as 'The Punishment Room'.

I had only ever heard stories about The Punishment Room. I struggled weakly but was no match for Dad's brute strength. I was shoved onto a dirty old cot that smelled of rot and mold. The dog collar that my brother's often forced me to wear as they passed me around and took turns using my body as a human punching bag was now used to attach me to a metal pole that stood at the head of the bed. Tears ran down my face. My father punched me.

"Being gay isn't natural, John! No son of mine will marry another man!" Dad kicked me in the face and mumbled over and over how weak I was. I knew that it was totally true.

"I'm sorry, Daddy!" I screamed but it only earned me another kick to the side of the head.

"Have you kissed one of them? Have you kissed one of those unnatural creatures?" Dad asked. I was afraid to nod, afraid of what he'd do to me, but I was even more afraid for him to catch me in a lie.

"Yes, sir. Yes, I kissed one of them." Dad yanked my hair back and I whined, kicking at the air weakly. "More than one! More than one! It was only three, I swear!"

"You dirty little slut. I'm sure that you'd just spread your legs and give it up to them, too. Wouldn't you Johnny?" Dad's words sickened me. I wasn't a slut. I wasn't.

I wet my lips but didn't answer, so he tightened the dog collar around my neck. "No. No, sir. I'm not a slut."

"You know what's worse than a dirty, filthy slut?" Dad asked. I shook my head. "A dirty, filthy slut in denial. You'll learn your lesson in here or you'll die of starvation. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir." I hissed out, suddenly furious with him.

A week went by where I was only allowed to consume liquid from a bowl that looked oddly akin to a dog dish, but I wasn't exactly sure considering it was almost totally dark in the room. I wanted to die. I really did. But that would have been too easy, at least were my father and brothers were concerned. When the solid food came, my stomach was unaccustomed to the totally bland meat and I was violently ill the first day.

I don't know what my father told the school. What I _did_ know was that my father paid so much money out to so many different sources, there was no doubt that he was paying the school board to keep their mouths shut about my month-long absences. It made me sick to think that the people who should be protecting me were letting me be abused by this man. But after that first day, I learned indifference. None of it mattered anymore.

When that month was over, Dad finally came down and freed me. What was the first thing that I did? I went to my bedroom and took a long, hot shower. Even after I left the bathroom, my skin still crawled and I could still smell that moldy, rotted cot. I realized then and there that I was all alone in the world. There was no one to save me. No Prince Charming. No knight in shining armor. This wasn't a fairytale. This was a nightmare.

**OOOO**

I got high for the first time two months later.

I had finally started to believe that my life was going to be normal. Constantly, I lied to my father and told him that I had seen the error of my ways. Promise after promise left my mouth, most of which I intended to leave unfulfilled. I told him that when I went off to college with my track scholarship, I would meet a nice girl and we would go off, get married, and have a bunch of children. Dad would always smile wistfully as if lost in some distant dream.

But one day, Dad had a bunch of his friends over. All were dressed in fine-tailored suits and had big, fat cigars in their mouths. The smoke was so thick in the air that I could barely see the person two feet in front of me. The men laughed and joked, and when I heard my name, I felt my blood run cold. A hand took hold of my shoulder and I tried to fight it off, but it was useless. All of a sudden, I landed in some man's lap.

He had a needle in his hand. It seemed to shimmer evilly in the light. I didn't like the look of it at all. Violently, I tried to slide off of the man's lap and make it to the floor, but another hand shot out from the side and held me firmly to his chest. Their laughter grated on my resolve and their breath smelled like overly expensive liquor. I screamed when the needle pierced my skin and a pleasant burn started to tear through my body. I shivered. They laughed.

"Don't fight it, Johnny-boy." I could hear my father's voice. He sounded almost as if he wanted to calm me, but I knew that that was a far-fetched idea. "Just let the drug kick in."

"D-Drug?" I asked weakly. My throat was too dry to say much more.

"That's my boy. Always the joker." Dad smirked and the other men chuckled wryly. "What did you think it was, Johnny-boy? You think that we'd waste water shootin' it up yer vein?"

"Don't. Please don't." I cried out, but it was too late. The needle slid out of my arm and I stood on wobbly legs. "What the hell did you do to me? I feel like I'm… I feel… I…"

"Is this the kid's first time?" One of the men asked.

"Yeah." Dad smirked. He almost sounded proud.

"That's a shot of pure morphine, John. That could kill him!" Another one exclaimed. He almost sounded worried, but it was hard to tell with the room spinning and thousands of voices speaking from nowhere and everywhere.

"You think that I don't know that?" Dad asked before he proceeded to bash the concerned-one's face in. "Now, Johnny-boy. Tell me how it feels. Does it feel good? You like that feeling? Soaring higher than the clouds?"

I shook my head, but I couldn't deny that it did feel, at least somewhat, pleasant. "N-No."

The next two years after that were a blur. I don't remember much about them, save for the fact that I spent most of them with a needle in my arm or cramming pills down my throat. It was an addiction, but Dad didn't like to call it that. He said that I was finally acceptable in his eyes. Finally, I had done something worthy to be called his son. And, like the sorry, confused soul that I was, I believed that that was really love.

Dad's friends from work really seemed to like me. They would pass me around like a doll and each would take his turn with their own drug of choice. I think that the worst was the Vicodin. That didn't wash out of my system for _days_. They would all slather me with love and affection, but Dad would never let them touch me. I was eighteen-years-old and still a virgin. Dad wanted me to be the perfect husband for that beautiful, nonexistent woman.

But then, one night, I went to my room rather late. I was still soaring from an almost lethal mixture of marijuana and Vicodin and was more than a little out of it. "Shit." I mumbled as I fell forward onto the bed.

"Look who's back? It's the little bitch." Kevin didn't mince words when it came to our relationship. "And look, he's all drugged up. It's too nice of an offer to resist, isn't it Glen?"

Glen was my second oldest brother. He was two years younger than Mark. "No, no. It could only be made more perfect by these…" sleek, steel handcuffs.

I screamed but no one was around to hear me. Nobody cared to come rescue me if they did. My body felt so heavy and I could barely move it. If it weren't for the fact that my hands were cuffed above my head, they would have fallen to my side as well. My clothes were cut off of me and the first brother to have me was Mark. He shoved his fingers into me dry and smirked as I wailed in pain.

It was a never-ending cycle of misery and pain. Eight hours. Mark started, then Glen, then Scott, and finally Kevin. Over and over. I think that Kevin was the most brutal, however. He tore me so badly that there was blood all over the white sheets and the mattress. They beat me and belittled me, and when they were done, they just threw me aside and waited for me to come down from my high so that they could come back and brutalize me while I was coherent.

To be totally honest, I hated my life.

**OOOO**

When I was twenty-one, the dam finally broke. I packed what little I could into my suitcase and ran out for my car. It wasn't much. In fact, it was a little station wagon that my mother used to drive before she had met my father. Outdated, true, but it ran like a dream and I couldn't ask for a better one. Under the cover of darkness I drove as fast as I could toward my new life. I knew that somewhere, something better was waiting for me. I just had to find it.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Okay, here it is! I need lots of feedback for this one, because I don't usually write this kind of story. Please Review!


	2. Welcome to Nowhere, Population 500

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

**Part:** 2/? – Welcome to Nowhere, Population 500

**OOOO**

It was only a matter of time until the ancient deathtrap of a car broke down on me. It was just my luck that it occurred in the middle of the storm of the century. Torrential downpours made for the worst landslides and I think that I lost one of the windshield wipers to the rain. I tried to pull over, but the car and I had two different ideas. The brakes didn't want to work and the car skidded; within seconds I was thrown off the road and started to sink in the mud.

I let out a slew of curses that I didn't even know that I knew when the brakes suddenly worked, only to jam the wheels about a foot into the mud. Without any other alternative, I climbed out of the car and walked into the rain. I stood on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, with only a suitcase to my name. I was too afraid to hitchhike. Who knew what kind of lunatics were on the road at this hour? No, I would have to walk.

Resolved to my fate, I slid my suitcase out of the back of the car and started to walk across the mud. It was already so bad that with every step that I took, I would sink into the mud as if the earth was alive and trying to swallow me whole. I tried to follow as closely to the road as I could, but it was difficult when I could barely see an inch in front of me and I didn't want to be run over. Fear and the bitter cold were the only reasons that I continued to move forward.

Within the hour, I found that I was in luck. I stumbled across a bar that looked like it was just about to close its doors to customers. With a sudden burst of energy, I ran toward the door. It was locked. A burst of pride told me that I was too good to grovel for shelter from the storm, but I stomped that down until it was no more than a tiny little voice in the back of my head. I couldn't think like that. Not anymore.

I knocked on the door. I could hear voices inside, so I knew that it wasn't vacated yet. After a moment, the door opened. "Can't you read the sign? We're closed… What the hell happened to you?"

The woman looked me over once and I realized that I must he quite the sight for sore eyes. I was covered from head to toe in mud and shivering uncontrollably. "My car broke down and I've been out here for an hour."

The woman only nodded. "Hunter! Go grab a towel! We have a live one."

I didn't think too much on her comment. I let her take me by the arm and lead me into the bar, where she sat me down on one of the barstools. She took my suitcase and put it somewhere else, at that moment I didn't really care where. She went behind the counter and started to fix me a drink. I tried to tell her that I didn't like alcohol, but she explained that it was only hot chocolate to make sure that I didn't develop a fever.

"So, what's your name?" The woman asked sweetly. I looked at her dumbly, almost as if I didn't understand what she had asked. She rolled her chocolate eyes. "What are you called, kid?"

"Oh. I'm John." I said slowly. She handed me the hot chocolate. "Thank you for this."

She shook her head. "What was I supposed to do? Leave you out there to freeze in the rain?" I didn't answer. If she had been my father, that would have been a viable option. But she wasn't him.

"I'm just not used to this kind of hospitality. Thank you again." I wanted to be as kind as I could, even if my manners weren't at their best. "Where am I?"

She looked at me seriously. "Welcome to Nowhere, population five-hundred."

"Really?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah. We're literally a town in the middle of scenic nowhere. Keep going on the highway and you'd miss us entirely." She explained. "The uncreative bastards decided to name us 'Nowhere' as a joke."

I tried hard to contain a chuckle because I could tell that she was, at least to some degree, serious in her frustration. "That sucks." I finally forced out.

She nodded. "It does. By the way, I'm Stephanie. But you can call me Steph."

I finished my hot chocolate soon after that. It was around that time that the man called Hunter came back with a towel and some fresh clothes. He handed them to me and Steph explained that there was a bathroom just down the hall that I could use to change into my new outfit. She also said that I could just drape my wet clothes over the towel rack so that they could dry a bit. They didn't want to use the dryer until the storm let up a little bit.

I thanked them for their kindness before I went to do just that. I took my old clothes off and dried my still-wet skin off with the towel. But something in the mirror caught my attention. Bruises. With narrowed eyes I inspected my reflection. Bruises covered my overly pale skin from head to toe. Were these all from what Mark, Glen, Scott, and Kevin had done to me? A tremor shot down my back. They couldn't hurt me anymore.

Carefully, I slid into my new clothes. The shirt was button down black flannel with a white undershirt. It had the name of the bar, 'McMahons', embossed onto the shirt pocket. There was also a pair of jeans that were a size too big, but I wasn't about to complain. They hung a little low on my waist, but that was covered by the shirt tails. I slid the socks on. And then I dried off my hair. I looked like a totally new man when I was dry.

I walked back out and saw that another man had joined Hunter and Steph. He had a head of silver hair and looked to be extremely business-oriented. "Is this the one that you were talking about, Stephanie?"

Steph turned to me with a small smile and nodded. "Yeah. He's the one."

"Well, John." He walked over to me and I tensed a little bit. "I'm Vince McMahon. This is my bar. I see that you've already met my daughter and son-in-law." Vince motioned to the other two people in the room.

"Yes." I nodded. "They were very kind to me." I didn't want to seem like I didn't appreciate all that they had done for me. I would most likely already be sick if they hadn't taken me in from the storm.

"I have been talking with Stephanie. She tells me that you're a little bit lost. Your car broke down and you'll need some money to fix that." Vince said. "So, I have an offer for you."

My eyes widened. He had an offer for me? Immediately, my mind leaped to the worst-case scenario. I was so sure that they wanted to hurt me in some way that I forgot that they had been so kind to me. "I'm not sure if…"

Vince raised one hand and I fell silent. "You work at my bar for one month. Earn enough money to get your car fixed or to buy a new car if you want. Just enough to get you back on your feet."

Despite myself, I felt a small smile starting to form. "You'd really do that for me?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. You start tomorrow." Vince's tone left no room for argument.

Steph let out a little yelp of excitement. All of a sudden, she was at my side and had a hand on my arm. "I'll show you to your room!" And with that, she started to take me upstairs.

**OOOO**

"Welcome to McMahon's, can I take your order?" I was the new waiter, busboy, and janitor. Yeah, McMahon's was a little bit undermanned. But the combined salaries made the month of extra work worthwhile.

"I'll have the hamburger with chili-cheese fries. And I'll take a diet Coke." The woman ordered curtly.

"Okay, ma'am." My Momma had always told me to be kind to the ladies. "I'll be back with your order in a minute."

I tore off the order sheet and took it back to the kitchen. Shane took it and started to fix the order. Meanwhile, I took an old tub and started to fill it with dishes from various tables. The work wasn't all that difficult. After all, the town only had five-hundred inhabitants. Besides, most of the townsfolk were extremely welcoming. Almost overly so. I was slathered with well-wishes and offers to help fix my car for free. I turned them down kindly. I _wanted_ to work.

You see, my entire life, stuff was handed to me because of my father's position. Well, more so my brothers than myself. But I saw firsthand what that kind of pampering did to someone. It made them lazy and took away their will to want to live their lives to the fullest. I didn't want to be like that. So, no matter how kind the men and women were, I turned them all down. I took the dishes into the kitchen and went to wipe down the tables.

"Excuse me, busboy!" I sighed and turned around, throwing the towel over my shoulder. With a smile planted firmly on my face, I turned back to face the woman who had called me.

"What can I do for you, ma'am?" I asked sweetly.

"I asked for my food fifteen minutes ago! Where the hell is it?" The woman screeched. The layer of sugary-sweet deceit in her voice was almost as fake as the cheap blond coloring in her hair.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." I continued to say with a smile. 'Kill them with kindness' was what my Momma used to call it. "Shane's making the food as fast as he can. He has several other orders to fill."

The woman narrowed her cold blue eyes at me. "I ordered fifteen minutes ago! If he can't flip a damn burger in fifteen minutes, then he shouldn't be the chef!"

"Please, calm down ma'am." I asked, desperate now. I didn't want her to cause a scene on my first day.

She let out a shrill battle-cry, before she threw her drink in my face. I didn't know that Coke burned the eyes that much. Several disturbed murmurs filled the room and someone muttered that they should find Stephanie. Distractedly, I tried to wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand. Unfortunately, there was the faint hint of cleaning fluid on them from the towel and that only made my eyes burn more.

Thankfully, before the woman could throw even more of a bitch-fit, Stephanie came out and told her ever-so-kindly where she could shove her hamburger and chili-cheese fries. And then, she put a hand on my shoulder and steered me off in the direction of the faculty unisex bathroom. She wet a nearby washcloth and dabbed my eyes with it to try and take away the sting. I was silent the entire time.

Stephanie must've noticed that I was still uncomfortable from the whole mess but was unsure about what she could say to make it better, so she simply patted me on the cheek in a manner that some would deem condescending, but I found rather loving. It was almost motherly. I had never really had a mother-like figure to watch out for me and it felt nice to have someone finally fill that role, even if it was only for a month.

I went back out to continue to fill orders. However, there was one handsome man in the corner that immediately had my attention. "Hello, I'm John. Welcome to McMahon's. Can I take your order?"

The handsome man looked up at the sound of my voice and flashed a dazzling, disarming smile. I could see the faint hint of a tattoo underneath his skin-tight tank top. "Well, hello there. You wouldn't happen to be that unfortunate busboy that ticked off Michelle McCool, would you?"

I rolled my eyes at the mention of the little witch. "Unfortunately."

"Well, I'll assure you that I'm not _quite_ so demanding. I'll have a hamburger, fries, and a beer." He ordered. He looked me over once. "I'm Dwayne, by the way."

I smiled. "Well, Dwayne, I'll be back with your order in a minute."

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Once it was over and Vince closed his doors for the day, he went to the register and dished out the money straight away. Ten percent of the income immediately went to the bills. I received two hundred dollars for my work that day, plus another fifty for having to deal with an emotional Michelle McCool. Stephanie and Shane earned three-hundred, while the rest went to Vince's personal vault.

I went upstairs to my bedroom and tucked the bills underneath my mattress. Wasn't it pitiful that I didn't even have a wallet to call my own? Yeah, I know. But this is one day down. I'm one day closer to getting back on track with my life. I changed out of my work clothes and into the pajamas that Hunter had leant me. Then, I climbed back into the bed and set my head down on the pillow. Sleep came relatively easily.

**OOOO**

"How old are you, John?" Steph asked one day while business was slow. I looked at her, confused. How old did I look? I must seem ancient to someone beautiful like her.

"I'm twenty-one." I answered distractedly.

"Twenty-one." She chuckled wryly. "You should be off at a university or a college, not stuck in the middle of nowhere working at a bar." She said. "Have you ever thought about college, John?"

To be totally honest, I never had. Dad constantly told me that I was dumb and that I would never make it in college and I had always believed him. I shook my head, "No."

"Didn't anyone ever ask you what you wanted to be when you grow up?" Steph asked.

I shook my head once more, "Nobody ever cared."

Steph's smile fell, but she didn't ask. I was thankful for that. "Well then, let me be your first. Johnny, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

I tensed a little bit when she called me 'Johnny', but thankfully she didn't notice. "I honestly don't know. I think that I want to be a… doctor, maybe? I like to help people."

Steph nodded. Her brilliant smile returned. "I think that you would make an excellent doctor, John. Now, I want you to make me a promise."

"What is that?" I asked.

"When you get your car fixed, I want you to fulfill that dream to become a doctor. Most of us here in Nowhere, well… we're stuck for life. You actually have a chance out of this hell-hole. Make the most of it." Steph said.

I nodded. "I'll try."

Steph started to mix a drink for another customer. "That's all I can ask for."

That day, the business was rather slow. It looked like another storm was coming in, so most residents of Nowhere weren't about to brave the impending downpour for beer that they could just take out of their liquor cabinets at home. Still, at the end of the day, I earned my two-hundred and Steph and Shane earned their three-hundred. That was the way that it was. I didn't question it, because the money was decent and it was constant.

The other thing that I loved about life at McMahon's was that they never asked any questions and never expected any answers. Gradually, I became comfortable enough around them to admit that I had been assaulted. Not raped. Assaulted. They knew that there was more to the story, but I wasn't ready to tell all and they understood that. In her free time, Steph helped to tutor me in the skills that I had lost in my three years away from school.

When that month was over, I was left with a valuable lesson. For the first time, I had _true_ friends. They had shown me that true love wasn't abuse, neglect, and abandonment. And now, with the little bit of money that I had left over from getting the car towed and repaired in my pocket, I set out to fulfill my promise to Stephanie. I would become a doctor. Not because she _wanted_ me to do it, but because she had _empowered_ me to do it.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Okay, so I swear that the pace of the story will slow down now. I just had to get him out of the house and away from everything first. So, I hope that you are enjoying the story thus far. Please remember to review, because they are my inspiration to continue! I may have another chapter uploaded today, but I'm not sure…


	3. Home Sweet Home, Cameron, North Carolina

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 3/? – Home Sweet Home, Cameron, North Carolina

**OOOO**

I drove a little over ten hours to make it from the small town of Nowhere, which had become like a second home to me, to make it to Cameron, North Carolina. Steph had a friend there by the name of Patricia Stratus, or Trish, as she liked to be called. As it turned out, she was the manager of an apartment complex, and, as luck would have it, there was a recent vacancy. She warned that the old tenants had complained about the noise, but I didn't care.

I could barely even believe it. Finally, I would have a home that I could call my own. I would be able to pay the rent with the money that I earned and all of the furniture inside would be bough with hard-earned cash. It left a sense of self-satisfaction within me that I hadn't felt in some time. In fact, I hadn't been this excited since before my mother died when I was six-years-old. When I finally arrived, I could barely keep the smile off of my face.

I slid out of the car and came face-to-face with Trish. "Trish, thank you so much for this. You don't know how much this means to me." I said honestly. Trish beamed.

"Well, I have one more surprise for you. The previous tenants that I mentioned earlier? They left all of their furniture behind. It's been thirty days, so it's considered abandoned." Trish explained.

"So, I now have a fully furnished apartment?" I asked in disbelief. Trish nodded and her smile never faltered. "Do you want more money for that? I don't have much, but…"

Trish raised a hand and shook her head. "No. The rent stays the same. Come with me and I'll show you the apartment, okay? If you still want it, you can pay the first month's rent then and there."

I nodded. "Okay."

Trish then led me over to my apartment, which was more like a townhouse. It was beautiful. Three floors. Downstairs, there was a kitchen, den, a pantry, and a study. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms. Ideal for a family, Trish explained. I wasn't really interested in having children, but smiled and nodded anyway. The attic was the only room that didn't have any furniture in it. Immediately, I was in love.

That's when I heard it. A loud thud that sounded like a heavy box had been thrown onto the ground. It came from the house that was next door. The townhouses were a duplex, so they shared one wall. John flinched when the sound came again, but this time it was a little louder. Trish had a look of frustration on her face. Obviously, this was what had driven the last tenants out.

"I feel bad for them, I really do. Jeff's an artist and Phil's on the local police force. When they were still in school, Jeff got Phil pregnant and they had twins. I wish I could do more for them, but…" Trish trailed off.

I could see that she was very clearly at the end of her rope. She didn't want to evict them, but if they continued to cost her tenants, she would have no other choice. "I don't mind the noise. Honest."

Trish looked shocked. "You really mean that? I don't mean to play the pity-me card, but I've lost so many tenants -,"

I shook my head. "No. It doesn't bother me at all. In fact, I love kids." I said honestly. "How much for the townhouse?"

"You still want to rent it?" Trish asked. I nodded. "Seriously?" I nodded once more.

"Yeah." I took my wallet out (it had been a gift from the McMahon's; you should've seen the pitiful look that they gave me when I told them I didn't have one) and started to file through the bills. "How much is it?"

"Its five-hundred dollars a month, which covers cable and utilities as well as renter's insurance. Your lease is for one year and is up for renewal next October. Okay?" Trish asked her tone efficient and each word measured.

"Okay." I took out five crisp one-hundred dollar bills and handed them over. "Thank you."

Trish smiled. "You're welcome, sweetie."

**OOOO**

Well, maybe I spoke too soon. I could understand why those last tenants stormed out like they did. Those children cried at all hours, but most notably when I was trying to sleep. It was 5:00 AM on the first day since I had moved in and I had moved all over the house to try and ignore the toddler's cries. It didn't work. So, I threw my old, ratty bathrobe on and stormed out of the house. I left the front door unlocked. I didn't intend to be out long.

Quickly, I knocked on the door. Even if it was extremely early, I knew that they would be awake because their children were awake. After several moments, there still wasn't an answer. Maybe they were trying to avoid me? No, I didn't think that that was true. From the way that Trish described them, they seemed to be a kind couple that just had a bit of trouble with their kids. It made me feel bad for complaining, but I _really_ needed to sleep.

I knocked once more. Muffled sounds came from within, followed by the screams of their two children. I sighed and smoothed a hand over my face. Maybe it would be best if I just went back to my townhome and tried to go back to sleep. Trish did say that they both worked, so maybe I could catch a few hours of relief while they were out at work. However, just as that thought crossed my mind, someone answered the door.

"Hello?" The man asked. "I'm sorry but… who are you?"

"I'm John Cena. I just moved into the townhouse next door." Immediately, an apologetic look crossed his face. "I was just wondering if everything was okay. The noise level was a bit…"

He nodded. "I know, I know. I'm really sorry. Celine and Cedric caught a bug at the daycare and they've been sick for a week. We have them on antibiotics, but the doctor said it could take a while for them to kick him."

"I'm sorry to hear that." I said honestly, because I _was_. Not just for myself, but also for this man. He had heavy bags underneath his eyes that showed that he hadn't slept much. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances."

The man smirked. "Yeah. This kind of sucks." And then he looked me over once. "You have to be cold."

For the first time, I realized that I had walked out into the December night barefoot. "A little bit."

He motioned inside. "Do you want to come in for some coffee? It's all that we've survived on as of late."

How could I turn down such a kind, heartfelt offer? "Sure."

The man distantly warned me about the toys that were scattered all over the floor. I was careful to avoid them, but it was rather difficult when one of the toddlers, the little boy, started to throw them at my feet to try and make me fall. The other man, a tall blond with captivating green eyes, chastised him and warned him about throwing his toys. The boy looked crestfallen but he stopped before he caused more trouble.

"I'm Phil, and this is my husband, Jeff." The man motioned to himself, and then to the blond with the unusual green eyes. "Jeff, this is John Cena. He's our new neighbor."

Jeff smirked. "Ah, so he's the brave soul that rented the townhouse next door. 'M sorry about all of the noise. It's not usually this bad." Jeff said sadly. "But the twins are always like this when they're sick."

"It's fine. I totally understand." I assured them. I didn't want them to have to worry about me.

"How do you take your coffee?" Phil asked as he walked over to the coffee maker, pouring some of the hot coffee into a cup. "Cream?" I nodded. "Sugar?" I nodded once more and he put two packets of Equal in. "There you are."

I smiled as Jeff motioned for me to take a seat at the kitchen table. "Thanks."

We talked for a little bit. I told them that I was interested in going to college and getting a degree and explained to them that this was the first time that I was away from home. The first month I had spent in McMahon's bar, which explained my sudden connection to Trish. Phil and Jeff explained that they had first met in middle school. Phil was from a home broken by alcohol and Jeff was a budding addict.

Jeff's drug of choice? Vicodin. Finally, after how many years, I felt a connection to someone. Of all of the shit that my father had stuffed into my system, I can honestly say that the narcotics were the worst. They made me soar above the clouds and I just didn't have the strength to force myself away from them. Jeff had had the same problem. But it was his love for Phil that made him make the choice to stop taking the drugs.

I wanted to tell them about my problem. I wanted to ask for their help. But I couldn't do that. I couldn't trust someone that much so soon. "Thank you so much for the coffee. I think that I'll have to head back home, though."

Jeff and Phil shared a look, before Phil nodded. "Well, it was nice to finally meet you. Again, I'm really sorry about the noise." Phil said. "I hope that you're able to sleep for a little bit."

I smiled. "Thanks, I'll try. And I hope that Cedric and Celine feel better soon." I set the coffee cup back onto the counter and walked toward the door. "We'll have to get together soon."

"Yeah. Actually, Trish has a barbeque every weekend for everyone in the complex. We'll see each other then." Jeff offered helpfully.

I walked out the door. "That sounds great."

**OOOO**

A little later that day, I went out to look for work. After all, I needed a way to pay the rent. I had only slept for about three hours, maybe four at the most, but I felt rejuvenated. Today marked one week without drugs. It was the longest that I had ever made it and I was proud of myself for that. So, to celebrate, I decided to hit the gym. Well, that was, as soon as I _found_ the gym…

Cameron, North Carolina was still unfamiliar territory for me. However, I thought that I was learning rather fast considering that I just moved here less than twenty-four hours ago. So, with an old map of the town that I had taken out of the secretary back at the townhouse, I went out of my station wagon and set off to find the nearest gym. It turned out to be closer than I expected. Just down the road, in fact.

It was called 'The Swagger Room'. I have never heard of a more idiotic name for a gym before, but what the hell? Momma had always taught me to never judge a book by its cover. As it would turn out, however, this book was _exactly_ like its cover. Dumb and Dumber ran the place. Co-owners Jake and Dolph Hager were not only stupid, but they were flashy _and_ stupid. It was a lethal combination.

I killed the engine and climbed out of the car. Immediately, I was hit with the scent of sweat as dozens upon dozens of nameless faces worked out on various machines. They had the door open, so all of this could be seen from the parking lot about a hundred feet away. I started to walk toward the open door when I noticed a sign that read 'Help Wanted' in the window. Of all the places that had jobs available, it _had_ to be this one…

Slowly, I walked inside and searched for the office labeled 'Mr. Jake Hager'. I knocked on the door once. A muffled moan came from the inside. I rolled my eyes. And then, a loud shout followed by a 'just a minute' reached my ears. As patiently as I could, I waited for them to finish whatever it was they were doing. Five minutes later, the door opened and an extremely flushed faux-blond walked out. He told me that Jake was 'all mine'.

"Hello." I said as kindly as I could. The blond behind the desk had a look of extreme seriousness on his face. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but I saw the Help Wanted sign in your window."

Jake made a small steeple with his hands and leaned forward in his chair. "Yes. The man that used to attend the snack bar quit after one of the men came onto him. That kind of stuff doesn't offend you, does it?"

I could almost hear my father's voice in the back of my head. _Being gay isn't natural_… _Being gay isn't natural_… "No, it doesn't bother me at all."

Jake looked me over once. "The salary is one-hundred seventy-five dollars weekly. Think you can handle that?"

It was just barely enough to make the rent, but I could make it work. "Yeah, I can handle that."

"You start immediately. I would hurry over there. The men don't like it when they have to wait for their vitamin water." Jake rolled his eyes and threw an apron at my chest.

I nodded and hurriedly slid the apron on over my head. "Yes, sir."

As I would later find out, I would be paid every Friday. On average, there were four months with five Fridays in them. So, on a normal month, I would make seven-hundred dollars. However, in months with five Fridays, I would make eight-hundred seventy-five dollars. If I subtract my total rent from that, then I would have about three-thousand one-hundred dollars saved for college. It wasn't much, but it was a decent start.

Besides, I still had one-thousand nine-hundred thirty-nine dollars and change from my time with the McMahons. As much as I didn't want to admit it, the station wagon had horrible MPG and I had to stop frequently for gas. Still, in the end, I made it there and that was all that mattered. I took my place behind the counter and started to fill orders. Also, I found that a way to earn some fast money was through tips. A guy gave me ten bucks because I _smiled_ at him.

"Can I take your order, sir?" I asked kindly. But when I looked up, I was met with a familiar face. "Dwayne!"

"Hey, Candy-Ass. Long time no see. I see you dragged that pretty boy ass all the way out of Nowhere and into Cameron, North Carolina – another nowhere, but at least it makes it on the map." Dwayne flashed a smile.

I laughed. "You have quite the sense of humor, Dwayne."

Dwayne's smile only seemed to broaden at the compliment. "And you have a pretty laugh, kid. You should use it more often." He said.

I tilted my head to the side and flashed him a playful smile. "Maybe I will. Now, what do you want to order?"

Dwayne ordered a vitamin water. I wasn't all that surprised. What man didn't order vitamin water in the gym? It was almost as revitalizing as Gatorade but it didn't have the nasty aftertaste. Dwayne, like many others, left a tip. However, when the end of my shift came and I took the tips out of the jar, I found a small slip of paper folded into the bill. It had his phone number on it and a little, adorable smiley face drawn next to it.

"Maybe." I whispered as I stuffed the piece of paper into my pocket. "Maybe…"

**OOOO**

I got home and crashed on the bed. Cedric and Celine were still screaming next door. I wasn't so mad about it as I was frustrated and beyond exhausted. Seriously, if they could provide sound-proof walls for these townhouses, I would pay all of the money that I intended to save for college just to have them install it as fast as they could. But then I silently chastised myself. They couldn't help that their kids were sick, after all…

Finally, it became so bad that I rolled over and yanked the bedside table drawer open and took out one of the needles inside. It was filled almost to total capacity with a clear liquid inside. Not wasting any time, I took off the lid and inserted the needle into my arm, pressing down on the plunger and taking a straight shot of morphine into my system. The world seemed to fade around me, and then, with a violent pulse, it all went black…

Well, I had a good run…

**OOOO**

**A/N:** See, I told you I would have another chapter ready today! Here it is the next chapter. Things will be slowing down a bit from now on, so I think that I will be sticking with this pace. Please remember that reviews are my inspiration to continue!


	4. A Brand New Day

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 4/? – A Brand New Day

**OOOO**

I awoke with an incredible headache. It wasn't the first time and I doubted it would be the last.

It amazed me that I couldn't hear the screams of the two toddlers. However, I then noticed that it was well after 9:00 AM and Phil and Jeff would have left for work already. I didn't have to leave for work until noon, so I slid out of bed and leisurely started to make myself ready for the day. After my shower, I dressed in loose black slacks and a white t-shirt with the McMahon Bar emblem on it. I was also able to find my ratty old sneakers.

I took a few Tylenol to try and kill the headache before it became a migraine, but I didn't catch it soon enough and I resolved myself to the fact that I would have to suffer through with it for the rest of the day. It was my punishment for falling off of the wagon. Without anything to do for the next hour and a half, I decided to explore the house. It was just my luck that I was able to locate a fitness room, complete with a treadmill and several different sized weights.

Physical fitness had never really interested me before. It may have been due to the fact that that was the area where I was tormented most often in school. But now, as I stared at the various pieces of equipment, I found that I had a new appreciation for them. I walked over to the treadmill, a bottle of water in hand, and threw a fresh towel over the side arm. I started some music on low and climbed on.

I started out with a slow walk. I told myself that if I could just make it fifteen minutes, then I would be content. However, fifteen minutes morphed into a half hour. And then, a half hour morphed into an hour. I killed the power on the treadmill and walked off, exhausted but satisfied. I don't know how to explain it, but there was something almost comforting about testing the limits of your body and becoming comfortable with what you can and cannot do.

I took another shower and dressed in my clothes for work. I didn't want to be late, so I left about fifteen minutes early (I know that it's just down the road, but I wanted to impress my bosses on my first day). It was a nice day outside, maybe a little bit chilly, but still pleasant, so I decided that I would walk to work. When I arrived, there were only a few people there. Already, there was a small line at the Snack Bar. Dwayne was in that line.

When it came time to serve Dwayne, I remembered that he had said that he liked my smile. I flashed him my best one and handed him the vitamin water that he wanted before he even asked for it. "Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome." I said; the smile on my face never once faltered. "Listen, about yesterday…"

"Did I come on too strong?" Dwayne asked. He sounded extremely concerned for me and whatever it was that was budding between us. "If I did, I'm really sorry. It's just that it's been _ages_ since I've seen someone as cute as you."

I blinked. The blush that immediately came to my cheeks was almost uncontrollable. "You really think that I'm cute?" I asked, flustered. He nodded enthusiastically. "I don't think that anyone's ever called me cute before."

"They'd have to be blind not to see it, Candy-Ass." Dwayne said confidently.

I chuckled a little bit at the new nickname he had for me. "Candy-Ass?" I asked.

Dwayne raised an eyebrow. I don't think it was supposed to be funny, but it really was. "You mean to tell me that you've been walkin' around in those tight jean shorts for your whole life and _nobody_ complimented that ass?"

"Nobody." I affirmed. It wasn't entirely true, but I didn't want to think about that.

In the years that I was still captive to my father and brother's tyrannical rule, I had received all sorts of lewd comments from friends of the family and even, on rare occasions, my own family. Most of them had come that night when the border between family and foe was crossed and all four of my brother's sexually assaulted me. Assaulted. Not raped. It was so much easier to think of it if I didn't use that horrendous four-letter word.

Some other customers came and went. I filled their orders with care. The faster I did so and with more accuracy came bigger and better tips. And, as it would seem, Dwayne wasn't the only one who had been inspecting my ass. I caught a glimpse of a few wayward eyes coming back and forth from the Snack Bar. I tried not to look perturbed by this because I didn't want Dwayne to get the wrong idea, but it had seriously started to get under my skin.

"Is it them?" Dwayne asked after a moment of silence. He inclined his head toward the cluster of men who had had their eyes on me for an unsettling amount of time. I nodded weakly.

"I don't want to cause any trouble. This is only my second day and I really need the money. As long as they don't act out of line, I don't mind if they look at me." I said seriously.

Dwayne's chocolate eyes raked up and down my body slowly. Finally, he countered with, "That's a lie."

"What?" I asked, confused.

"What you just told me is a lie." Dwayne answered. "It's written in your body language. They _really_ make you uncomfortable, don't they?"

I was extremely hesitant to nod. If I did, it could very well cost me my job. But as Dwayne's eyes continued to burn into me, I had no other choice. "Yeah. They do bother me. A lot."

Dwayne slid out of his chair and slipped a ten dollar bill into the tip jar. "That's all you needed to say, Candy-Ass. That's all that you needed to say."

Needless to say, those men never looked twice at me again.

**OOOO**

The next day, I finally did it. I finally called Dwayne. It was 9:30 AM and Phil and Jeff had just left to take Celine and Cedric to the babysitter's house. Thankfully, the two toddlers were overcoming whatever illness they had developed and everyone could breathe a collective sigh of relief when the screaming stopped at 1:30 AM and never started again. It was literally a miracle. I don't think I've ever been more excited in my life.

So, anyway, I sat on one of the old wool couches in the den area. The television showed the morning news with the volume on 'low'. Apparently, there had been a string of vicious, bloody murders in West Newbury, Massachusetts. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the crimes, and the only thing that connected the victims was the similar MO. On a nearby wall, written in their blood, was the name 'John'.

I dialed Dwayne's number and waited for him to answer. _"Hello?"_

"Dwayne? This is John Cena." There was somewhat of an affirmative mumble on the other end of the line and I wondered if I had caught him at a bad time. "Is this a bad time?"

"_No. Not at all. I'm just trying to get some last-minute chores done before my Mom flies in later today. She had an important business meeting and I told her she could stay with me."_ Dwayne mumbled. I heard him shift some stuff.

"Oh. Okay. That sounds kinda fun." I offered weakly. I silently cursed myself. Why did my brain betray me so?

"_Oh, yeah. It's all kinds of fun."_ Dwayne let out a loud curse as something landed on his foot._ "Sorry 'bout that."_

"That's okay." I shook it off. I had heard much, _much_ worse out of my father's mouth when I was a little boy. "I was just calling to see if you wanted to come to a barbeque at my complex this weekend."

"_You mean tomorrow?"_ Dwayne asked sarcastically.

It took me a minute to realize that today was Friday. "Yeah. Guess it would be tomorrow, then."

"_Well, I'll have to check my day planner."_ Dwayne made a few sounds like the rustling of paper. I chuckled. He could be so totally silly at times. It was extremely refreshing. _"Yes, I'm available. You wanna make that a date, Candy-Ass?"_

"I think that that would be perfect." I had to confess.

We said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone. It turned back to the television just in time for them to name the alleged suspects as a man known only by the name of 'John'. It is unknown whether or not he had signed his own name to the crime scene or if he is interested in someone else by the name of John. He was identified as a tall Caucasian male with a dark brown buzz-cut and blue eyes, with several tattoos on his body.

I turned off the television and went to take a shower. That news broadcast had unnerved me a little bit. My father and I could often be considered twins (which was funny, because he looked nothing like his other sons, but was almost identical to them in personality). The only difference was that I had let my hair grown out when I was sixteen and it now had a decent length. Not too long, not too short. Also, I didn't have any tattoos.

Work went by quickly. Dwayne wasn't there, but I didn't expect him to be. He had said earlier that he had had to fix up his house so that his mother would be comfortable when she came to visit, and from the sound of it, that would take a little bit more than three hours. I earned a few odd looks, most likely caused by the unfortunate photo on the news earlier, but after a few minutes, they lost interest in me and looked away.

I received a call later that day from Vince McMahon. "Hello?"

"_John, I have an offer for you. I realize that business is rather slow here in the middle of Nowhere, and so I sent one of my best managers, AJ Lee, to North Carolina. She's in California now, so it make take a few days for her to arrive."_

I blinked slowly. I had heard about AJ Lee. She was, in no uncertain terms, a little bit psychotic. "Um, okay. So, she'll be here in a few days. Does she need somewhere to stay?"

Vince 'tsked'. _"Yes. You wouldn't mind letting her stay at your townhouse for a few days, would you? After that, she'll open the new bar that we recently bought and she'll offer you a job there."_

"But… I already have a job at the gym. I can't just quit." I said worriedly. It was only my third day and I didn't want to quit so soon.

"_It will only be a part time job and you'll have plenty of time to think about it. Just, when she asks you about it, make sure that you have an answer then, okay?"_ Vince asked.

I nodded even if he couldn't see it. "Okay."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter isn't as long as the others, but I wanted to save their first date for the next chapter. Please remember to review!


	5. The First Date

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 5/? – The First Date

**OOOO**

It was nice weather for a barbeque. I was sure that Trish was thankful that the quarter-inch of snow that the weather channel had forecasted was more like a small dash, which melted as soon as it touched the earth. It occurred to me that I had never told Dwayne where I lived, but then I remembered that he seemed to be rather close to Vince McMahon, and if he had followed me from Nowhere to Cameron, he _must_ know where I live.

I left for Trish's house around 12:00 PM. The sun was covered by a thin layer of clouds, but it still beat down on my body and made me sweat. It amazed me that it could be so damn warm in the middle of December. To me, it defied all of the laws of nature. Trish lived in the house at the mouth of the complex, which was actually the main office and Trish's house combined. I could hear several voices in the backyard.

"John!" Trish exclaimed excitedly. She rushed over to my side and unlocked the gate so that I could come into her backyard. "I'm so happy that you could make it! Come on over and have some food."

I nodded a small smile on my face. "Thanks, Trish. I hope you don't mind that I invited a friend of mine over. It's… kind of our… first date." I said hesitantly. Her eyes widened and a wide smile broke out on her face.

She smacked my shoulder a little too hard. "Aww, Johnny! That's so _cute_!"

I looked at her with total confusion. "You're not mad about it?"

Trish shook it off. Her blond hair flew in every direction. "Nah. There's always too much food anyway."

At Trish's insistence, I fixed myself a plate filled with food to eat. A hamburger, some fries, and a Rib-A-Que sandwich all sat on my plastic plate. I took a seat at an old picnic table in the corner. It looked to be extremely old, with rotted wood and what looked to be a few loose nails, but it was in a secluded corner that was far away from the eyes of all of the other residents. I didn't want to be social today.

That was, of course, until Dwayne arrived. Trish smiled as she welcomed him into the backyard. It was clear that she was enamored by him, but she realized that he was _my_ date, and very kindly kept her hands to herself. Dwayne walked over to me and sat down across from me at the table. Once more, I was reminded of the fact that he liked my smile. I flashed him my best one. He returned it.

"Sorry that I'm a little bit late." He said with a sheepish smile. "My mother's flight was delayed a bit, so I had to pick her up from the airport because her friend couldn't do it." He explained.

"That's fine." I brushed it off. I hadn't told him an exact time to come, so it didn't really bother me. "So, how are you?"

"Good. I am… good." Dwayne said. "And you, Candy Ass? How are you doing today?"

I laughed at the nickname. I just couldn't help myself. It was actually kind of cute. "I'm fine. I'm just a little bit tired, that's all. So…" I had never actually been on a date before, so this was a bit awkward.

"Do you have any other jobs other than the one at the Snack Bar at the gym?" Dwayne asked.

I nodded. "Vince is sending AJ over to start a new bar and he offered me a job there."

"That sounds nice." Dwayne smiled. "I'm a substitute teacher at the local middle school and an after-school tutor."

"Cool. I remember middle school really well. And I mean _really_ well. Some of the worst days of my life. My teachers always said that I didn't pay attention." They weren't my only problem, however.

Dwayne tilted his head to the side and took a drink of his soda. "Maybe you just didn't have the right teacher."

"Maybe." I shrugged it off. He didn't seem to mind.

Over the next few minutes, we talked about our lives thus far. He told me where he had been born and about life with his mother as a child. At her insistence, he had gotten his teaching certificate so that he could better other lives like she had fought so hard for his. I told him that I had come from West Newbury, Massachusetts. I didn't disclose too much information about my family, other than the fact that my mother died when I was six-years-old.

"So, Candy-Ass, do you have any plans to further your education? I mean, I know that you didn't like middle school all that much, but maybe you would favor a less structured environment like college?" Dwayne asked.

"Actually, yes. I have thought about it." I said. "Steph and I once talked about what I wanted to be in the future. I said that I wanted to be a doctor. But I have a lot of setbacks that I have to overcome first."

Dwayne tilted his head to the side. "Like what?"

"I have… I don't have a lot of money." I had almost come clean about the addiction, but I couldn't.

"Well, I'm sure that with AJ coming down soon, you'll be able to remedy that." Dwayne said.

"I sure hope so." I said. "Do you have any plans to move away from Cameron? I mean, first I thought that you lived in Nowhere. I don't think that you would drive ten hours just to go to _this_ gym."

"Actually, I live in Cameron. I was in Nowhere on business." Dwayne explained matter-of-factly. "And I would love to move away. The heat is _not_ my friend. Maybe Detroit?"

"Maybe Detroit." I echoed.

I liked Dwayne. I found that it was incredibly easy to talk to him. We talked for another half hour, maybe even an hour. Time seemed to be virtually irrelevant when I was with him. I know that it seems cliché, but that was the truth. Maybe it was a little soon to make this kind of deduction, but I could actually see myself with him. And the beautiful thing? He liked me too! And that made me smile like a loon.

"Well, I have to hit the road. Sorry to have to cut this short." Dwayne said. I had totally lost track of time and it had already started to become dark. "But how about this? Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night."

"You really want to take me out to dinner?" I asked, shocked.

"Yep." Dwayne nodded. I could barely nod in return. "Good. I'll see you then."

I raced back into my townhouse, totally excited. I shed my clothes and took a shower, thankful that the hot water washed all of the tension out of my body. I don't understand _why_ was tense. I mean, I had probably just had the most exciting moment in my life to date. This was the first time that I had actually ever been on a date, let alone been asked on a second one. Slowly, I walked out of the shower and draped a towel around my waist.

Once I was dry, I slid into some sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt. I plopped down on the bed and rubbed a hand over my face. I totally understood what Dwayne meant by the temperamental Cameron weather. After all, it had snowed this morning and now the heat was almost unbearable. Sighing, I climbed off of the bed and turned on the air-conditioner in the window. A blast of cold air filled the room.

Finally, I tossed myself back onto the bed and stretched out. Still, I was uncomfortable. I slid out of the shirt and tossed it on the floor. My back was still wet from the shower and the water was cooled by the constant blasts from the air-conditioner. I shifted a little bit to make myself more comfortable, before I closed my eyes and thought back about the wonderful date. It impressed me that he hadn't tried to kiss me. Maybe he would be the one to stick around…

Maybe Dwayne was the key to my happily ever after…

**OOOO**

The next day, I fussed over my appearance in the mirror. I hated the way that I looked in my clothes. I needed to spend some more time on the treadmill, because the shirt that I wore was a little too tight around the middle. When I realized that I couldn't fix that and still wear the shirt that I wanted to wear, I took out a silver vest and slid it over the dark blue button-down shirt. Now, that looked better.

Dwayne arrived around 6:00 PM. He drove a dark blue Cadillac that was almost the same color as the shirt that I was wearing. He was also dressed well, but he was in a white button-down shirt and black dress pants. Dwayne climbed out of his side of the car and opened the door for me. I flashed him a smile and slid inside. The air-conditioner was on at full-blast. I could feel my hair start to flutter around my face.

Dwayne walked around to the other side and slid in behind the wheel. We drove for a little while in silence. I still wasn't all that used to live in Cameron, so I was totally unaware of our destination. As it turned out, we arrived at a fancy French restaurant. I had never been to a French restaurant before, but I guess that there is a first time for everything. Dwayne opened my door a second time and helped me out of the car.

We were seated almost immediately. I was a little hesitant to order anything, so Dwayne ordered for me and explained that we would share it. If I didn't like it, then he would eat it himself. I could still remember dinnertime with my father. Even if you didn't want to eat or weren't hungry, he would practically force the food down your throat. This was a pleasant change of pace.

"Have you ever had frog legs before?" Dwayne asked. I shook my head. "I know that it seems a little odd to eat frog legs, but I promise that they taste just like chicken. Do you want some?"

I did, but I was still a little bit afraid. "I do… but could you eat some first? I know that it sounds a little stupid, but could you? It would make me feel better."

"It's not stupid, Candy-Ass. Don't worry about it. You want me to eat some?" I nodded. He stabbed one of the legs with his fork and ate it. "See? It tastes really good. Do you want some now?"

I was still a little bit hesitant, but I nodded. "Yeah. I'll try some."

It was actually delicious. Most of the food was. The only thing that I wouldn't touch was the snails. But that was okay, because Dwayne couldn't stomach them either. We continued to talk about our respective lives. He told me that he had been an only child and his father had left when he was a little boy. I had often dreamed of a life without my father in it. But that was fiction. _This_ was reality.

"I have four older brothers." I told him. "None of them liked me all that much. I didn't get the chance to know the three oldest all that well, but the one who was closest in age to me made it his mission to pick on me every day."

"Sounds like typical brothers." Dwayne tossed back as he ate some more food. I could only wish that they _were_ normal brothers. "What kind of music do you like?"

"Rap." I answered immediately.

His eyes widened considerably. "Wow. That wouldn't have been my first guess."

I chuckled. Yeah, I wouldn't immediately guess that someone like me would like rap either. "I only recently started to like music. My father was really into classical stuff and would take us all to operas. I couldn't stand it."

"I can understand that. My mom liked classical music too. It just wasn't my cup of tea." He added. He took a drink of water. "I think that I'm more into R&B myself. I haven't listened to enough rap to know if I'd like it or not."

"Maybe we could listen to it together sometime?" I offered softly. I wasn't even sure if he had heard me.

Dwayne smiled. "I would like that. I would like that a lot."

The rest of the date went off without a hitch. When the check came, Dwayne paid for it in full. He didn't even bat an eyelash. I really liked him. He seemed like the kind of man who was extremely loving and cared about those who were close to him. And, thankfully, it seemed as if he cared about me. He dropped me off at home and kissed me on the cheek. I watched as he drove off with a small smile on my face.

Life was good.

**OOOO**

AJ arrived on Monday. I told her that I didn't have much to offer her, only a pull-out mattress in the den and a small television which was also in the den. But AJ only nodded and smiled. She set her stuff down and started to unpack silently. When her attention was focused elsewhere, I found myself staring at her openly. It was hard to believe that this was the same girl that Steph had called psycho. She seemed extremely sweet.

Once she made herself at home, she left for most of the day. I didn't mind all that much. I had work anyway. After walking to work, I slid my apron on and walked over to the Snack Bar. Dwayne was already there waiting for me. He had a bottle of water in his hand and I handed over his vitamin water for free. He smirked, before he thanked me and cracked the lid. I served a few more customers as he drank, but business was slow.

When the last customer walked away, I turned and looked at Dwayne. "I have an offer for you."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow and I fought to contain a chuckle.

"Yeah. Music in the Parks has come to Cameron. I actually found out about it because one of my neighbors is in a band that is performing there." I said. "And since we were talking about rap music…"

Dwayne smirked. "I'd like that. So, when is it?"

"It's next weekend." I said. "But… I'll see you before then, right? I mean, we practically see each other every day at the gym, right?" I didn't want to seem desperate, but I really liked him.

"Yes, Candy-Ass." Dwayne's smirk never faltered. "How about we have dinner again tomorrow?"

I smiled. "I would like that."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** So, we learn more about AJ in the next chapter. I hope you all enjoyed and please remember to review!


	6. A New Outlook on Life

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 6/? – A New Outlook on Life

**OOOO**

It had been one month since I had first moved to Cameron, North Carolina.

I had accepted AJ's offer and now worked the weekends at the new bar in downtown Cameron. When I wasn't at work, I was usually with Dwayne. In fact, the only time that I _wasn't_ with him was when I had to sleep. It was no secret that I was totally head-over-heels for Dwayne. And after that first month, when he finally asked me to be his boyfriend, I accepted without hesitation. He would be my first _real_ boyfriend ever.

AJ had moved out of my townhouse and now rented her own apartment a little ways off on a month-to-month basis. Vince told me that the reason for that was that, one day, he hopes to bequeath the bar to me. I was flattered, but was unable to give him a definite answer because I'm still not sure what I want to do with my life. If I want to become a doctor, then between school and Dwayne I won't have _time_ for the bar.

Murder in West Newbury had become more of a presence than ever before. And while the MO of the murderer has changed, it is believed to be the same man (or group of men, for that matter). Now, when the police find the bodies, a small note is written in the blood beside them. 'We're coming for you'. I try not to think too much of it, but it's hard when all of the pieces of the puzzle are added together. My father and brothers were hot on my trail.

Also, with a considerable amount of determination and resolve, I was able to throw out all of my needles. I don't even miss them… all that much. I'll admit that there are times that I wish that I wouldn't have thrown them out, but as I enter into my second month here at Cameron, those are becoming few and far between. I'm extremely determined to make myself better for Dwayne, but also for myself. I don't want to be the charity case anymore.

I _am_ thankful that today is the first day of February and it also just happens to be a Saturday. Dwayne and I had agreed to meet every weekend at Trish's barbeque. She didn't mind too terribly. After all, after all of this time, he was like family to her. In fact, he was like family to _everyone_. I was just so thankful that everyone got along so well. And Dwayne with the kids… it was just too cute for words.

So, I pushed the fear of the murders to the back of my mind. I was on Cloud Nine, and nobody was gonna bring me down. That was the promise that I made to myself.

**OOOO**

Dwayne and I sat out in the backyard, a case of beer off to the side and the last vestiges of the coals in the barbeque pit were dying behind us. I had my head on his chest and he carefully ran his hand over my hair. This was what I always wanted. This was what I knew that love should be. He leaned forward a bit and kissed the crown of my head. I cracked a smile, even if he couldn't see it.

"Don't you just love to look at the stars?" I asked dreamily. Call me a sap, call me a dreamer, I don't really care. "I used to love to look at the stars when I was little. They were like my outlet. I could relate to them."

"You know, you've never told me what happened to you when you were little. But that's okay." Dwayne said. "I wish I could make it so that you wouldn't have to experience that." He continued to stroke my hair.

I shook my head. "You don't have to think like that. What happened… it wasn't your fault."

Dwayne brushed the hair out from in front of my face. "You're so beautiful, Candy-Ass. Why would anyone want to hurt you? The bastards should rot in hell."

I forced a small smile. "That's all in the past now. I'd rather focus on the present and the future."

"Am I in that future?" Dwayne asked hesitantly. He tilted his head to the side slowly.

"Yeah." I nodded. I sat the can of beer down beside me and rolled over onto my stomach. Our eyes met and I flashed him a small smile. "I really hope so."

Dwayne leaned forward and kissed my forehead softly. We hadn't actually shared a true kiss yet, but that was okay. I could understand that Dwayne was a little afraid to break me. Gradually, I had told him that I had run away from home due to the abuse that I had endured. He was still unaware of what that abuse consisted of, however. Maybe after we had a few more weeks under our belt, I would tell him more.

Dwayne shifted a bit and took a small swig of his beer. We were each on our second beer – it was Saturday, so Dwayne didn't have to be at school tomorrow and he didn't tutor on Sundays. He didn't even look like he was affected by the alcohol, but I was already a little woozy. I should stop after this one. Dwayne set his beer back down on the concrete and leaned back. I shifted and took my place back on his chest.

"So, did you receive any word from the colleges that you sent the applications in to?" Dwayne asked. I took another swig of beer and shifted a little closer to him. It was a little chilly outside.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention that. Dwayne and I sat down and filled out some applications to various colleges in the nearby vicinity. Since I already had a one-year lease in Cameron and worked two jobs, it would be in my best interest to stay within the state. I would need to be in regular college for four years before I could head out to a specialized school for medicine. I smiled softly.

"Well… I haven't looked at all of them yet… but I was accepted into North Carolina State." I said with a smile. I was proud of myself for that accomplishment. "I start to take classes this fall."

"Good for you!" He sounded genuinely excited for me. "I'm so proud of you, Johnny!"

My eyes widened. Nobody had ever been proud of me before. "Really?"

He nodded. "Of course, Candy-Ass. You worked really hard to make it this far. And it will be a hard road ahead, but I have full confidence in you."

I blinked slowly, still in shock. "That… that means a lot, Dwayne. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, John. You did all of this yourself." Dwayne assured me. It left me with a sense of satisfaction that I had never felt before.

"But you were there to support me. You don't understand how much that means to me." John said. "I've never had someone to stand behind me like that before. It really means a lot to me."

"Well, I care about you. That's what you do for those you care about." Dwayne said confidently.

He cares about me. He _cares_ about me. I blinked slowly and tried to take it all in. It seemed so far-fetched. After all, the closest that I had ever come to 'love' was my father telling me that all of _this_ was wrong and chaining me to a metal pole in the basement. That, and injecting me with a straight shot of morphine that ruined my life and sent me into a horrific downward spiral. I would never be the same.

Dwayne finished his beer and we both climbed to our feet. I recycled the cans and put the rest back into the cooler. They would be there, waiting for Dwayne's next visit. The barbeque pit had put itself out and now we were both plunged into the darkness. Dwayne took my hand and leaned forward slowly. He kissed me and a sweet tremor chased down my spine. It felt wonderful.

Dwayne drew back and smiled at me. He tenderly brushed my hair out from in front of my face. "Congratulations again, Candy-Ass. I'll see you next weekend, okay?"

I nodded, totally blinded by the love that I felt for this man. "Okay."

**OOOO**

AJ watched me as I wiped down the bar. Someone had spilled their wine on the counter and it was now extremely sticky. "You seem a little out of it today, John. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I shot back a little too quickly. "I'm just… I'm really, _really_ happy. I had the greatest date _ever_. I think that I'm in love." I gushed. AJ smiled easily.

"Great! Isn't it a wonderful feeling?" Her smile melted into a far-off look as she twirled her brown curls around her finger. I didn't understand why everyone called her crazy.

"Do you have someone special, AJ?" I felt obliged to ask. She had listened to me, after all.

AJ hesitated for a moment, before she nodded. "Yeah. His name is Bryan. But he's… different."

I looked at her with confusion. "I don't understand. What's so different about him?"

AJ started to walk around the room slowly. She cocked her head to the side and continued to twirl her luscious brown curls. "I've told him how much I love him several times. He's never said it back."

"Maybe he's just not ready to admit the fact that he loves you. Does he show you in other ways?" I asked. She seemed seriously distressed by the fact that he hadn't said 'I love you' yet.

"He's extremely… smothering. He is extremely worried about me at all hours of the day. I have ten texts of my phone from him already. I don't think that he trusts me." AJ said sadly.

I felt bad for her, I really did. And I could relate. My father had been extremely smothering, but in different ways. I was never allowed to have a phone (once he found out that I was gay, he took my phone and had the landscaper run over it with the lawnmower), so he would have me trailed on my way to school. By the time I was eighteen, one of my older brothers had to chaperone me wherever I went. It was horrible.

But now that I _don't_ have that constant supervision, I'm kind of at a loss for what I should do. It's weird. If I didn't know better, I would actually claim that I _missed_ it. But I know better than that. Hate is a strong word, I know that, but I would say with some degree of certainty that I hated my father… maybe I still do. When I didn't comment immediately on AJ's statement, she turned around and turned on the television that hung in the corner.

There was an emergency news broadcast about the latest murders in West Newbury. Now, one of the 'culprits' was apparently in custody. I squinted to try and look at the name on the screen, but I couldn't see it all that well. But I would know that face anywhere. It was the man who had been concerned about me when my father had me shot up with morphine. I would know that face anywhere, because my father bashed it in.

"It looks like the murders there have become worse. I wouldn't want to be the unfortunate one to cross them." AJ muttered under her breath. I don't think that I was supposed to hear her, but I did.

"There wasn't any trouble like that in California, then?" I asked sarcastically. AJ offered a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, there was trouble in California. There's trouble anywhere, really. But you can't live your whole life in fear. It just doesn't work like that." AJ said. "But the trouble in California was _nothing_ like this."

"Well, I don't want to be the one to live my life in fear." I confessed. "I've done that for too much time. I've always been afraid of life… but not anymore."

"I think that we've all lived in fear before." AJ said.

"It's okay to be afraid. You just have to learn how to deal with that fear." I said.

AJ smiled. She had such a sweet smile and it warmed my heart. "I don't think that I could have put it more perfectly myself." She tossed me the keys. "Can you lock up? I have to head back home and check on those texts."

I smiled and nodded. "Sure. Not a problem."

Her smile never faltered. "Thanks."

I finished wiping down the bar and turned off the television. By the time that I finished that, AJ had already left the back parking lot that was closed off for employees only. Making sure that the front door was locked, I stuffed the key into my pocket and went home. AJ wouldn't mind if I turned it in tomorrow. That was what I usually did when I turned it in after she asked me to lock up anyway.

Once I was at home, I tossed my stuff down onto the table. AJ had let me have another case of beer for free. She was a wonderful boss, even if she wasn't _technically_ my boss. According to AJ, we were more like equals. I liked that better. I'm not one for the structure of a normal job – my _normal_ job consists of my bosses fucking in their office for six hours and paying me less than two-hundred dollars to run the entire gym.

That's when I saw them. A bouquet of blood red roses sat on the counter, sealed with a fancy golden bow around the mouth of a vase. They were absolutely beautiful. I bit down on the inside of my mouth as I kicked my shoes off and walked over to inspect them a little bit closer. Once I was only a few inches away, I noticed that there was a note on the counter beside them. With a smile on my face, I opened it.

_**Dear John,**_

_**This is **_**not**_** a 'Dear John' letter. So, let me restart. Dear Candy-Ass,**_

_**It's been one month now. I can honestly say that it's been the best month of my life. I wanted you to have these to show you that there can be a little beauty even In the midst of sorrow. There are twenty-one roses, one for every year of your life. Each one will be a reminder that even though your family screwed you over, each moment of your life made you better… stronger.**_

_**I have something that I really want to tell you. I'm not sure if it's a little too soon or whatever, but I need to tell you and I can't wait to do so. But you deserve to hear it face to face. So, how about this weekend, you come over to my house and spend the weekend? If you don't want to, I understand. But I have a strong feeling that you feel the same as I do. So, John, please accept my invitation.**_

_**I hope to talk to you soon. Until then, take care of yourself, kid.**_

_**Dwayne**_

I couldn't help the smile that broke out across my face. I carried the note to bed and slept with it under my pillow that night.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	7. An Unusual Bond

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 7/? – An Unusual Bond

**OOOO**

It was later in the week when I was awakened at 3:15 AM by a loud series of knocks on my front door. I rubbed my eyes and rolled over in bed. Maybe, if I acted like I hadn't heard it, then it would be like it had never happened. Unfortunately, I had never been that lucky. The knocks came louder this time and they sounded a bit more frantic too. Furious and unbelievably tired, I rolled out of bed and searched for my bathrobe.

I can remember thinking that this had better be a life or death situation. It was such a horrible thought, I know. Silently, I cursed myself for it. But really, it _was_ 3:15 AM, an hour when all other sane individuals would be lost in their dreamlands. Slowly, I went downstairs and hesitated for a moment at the door. I considered for a moment that it could be some sort of crazy killer, but then I shook it off. What kind of killer knocked on the front door?

I opened the door to find a crestfallen Jeff on the other side. He looked lost and confused. The occasional tear streamed out of his eyes. "What's the matter, Jeff?" I asked.

"John?" He seemed shocked that I had even answered the door. To be totally truthful, I was a little bit shocked myself. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have come over. This was a bad idea."

I shook my head. "No. It's fine. Really." I was lying through my teeth and I hoped it wasn't as obvious as I thought it was. "Please. I want to help with whatever it is."

"It… It's Phil." Jeff stuttered out. More tears streamed out of his emerald eyes and I feared the worst.

"What's the matter with Phil? Has he been hurt?" I asked weakly. Phil was Jeff's entire world; the reason that he had gotten clean. If Phil was hurt or worse, dead, then Jeff would derail in the blink of an eye.

Jeff nodded and swallowed hard. "He was shot in the chest. He didn't… he didn't have his Kevlar vest on… he was off duty and about to come home. They said that it went into his lung. He's in critical care now."

"I'm so, so sorry Jeff." I knew that that wouldn't make it okay, but that was the best I could offer him.

Jeff scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's not your fault."

I touched a hand to his shoulder. "Why don't you come inside? I wouldn't want you to get sick because you stayed outside in the cold for too long." I led him into the townhouse. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Could I have some water, please?" Jeff asked weakly. He took a seat at the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands. I handed him a glass filled with water. "Thank you."

I sat down across from Jeff and watched as he slowly drank his water. He seemed to only drink a small amount at a time and then he would draw the cup back and stare at the contents. He did this several times until he had consumed all of the water in his cup. Without a word, I rose and refilled it for him. It seemed to take his mind off of the horrific accident, and if it would offer him a moment of comfort, then I wouldn't deny him that.

"I know that it's not my place to ask this, but why aren't you at the hospital?" I couldn't help but ask the question that had floated around in my mind for the last few minutes. It didn't really make sense for him to be here.

Fresh tears brewed in Jeff's eyes and I wondered if I had made the best call when I asked him that question. "I can't. The daycare is closed today and I can't find a babysitter on such short notice. Actually, that's why I came here."

My eyes widened. "Oh, I couldn't… I have to leave for work at nine, and… I've only been there a month and a half, so…" I trailed off as Jeff looked down at the table sadly.

Jeff shook his head. "No. I understand, really. I'll just take them to the hospital with me. There's a daycare center there, so it won't be a problem."

I stopped him. "No. There is a daycare service at the gym, and if need be, I'd only be about a hundred feet away. I'll take them off your hands for today. Go see your husband."

"Really?" I nodded. The look of relief on his face was all the thanks that I needed. "Thank you so much!"

Jeff handed off the spare set of keys to their townhouse next door and told me that he would be back to pick them up by 7:30 PM. I nodded and accepted all of the hurried 'thank yous' with a smile. Suddenly, I wasn't so ticked off about having been awakened at 3:15 AM anymore. I walked outside and waved to Jeff as he drove his motorcycle off in the direction of the hospital. If he doesn't put a helmet on his head, he won't be far behind.

I walked over to their townhouse and unlocked the front door, kicking through a maze of toys and clothes to make it to the staircase. Jeff had been in such a haste that he left the lights on. Slowly, I made my way upstairs and found the nursery where the twins were. Taking one of the little bundles in each arm, I carried them downstairs and turned out the light. Once I was sure that the door was locked behind me, I made my way back to my own townhouse.

**OOOO**

I stood in front of the receptionist's desk. The receptionist was a tall, busty blond who obviously had a thing for me. She batted her eyelashes at me obscenely. "Hello, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I have two kids that I need to drop off here for a few hours." I said tiredly. Cedric and Celine had each claimed one of my hands. "Their names are Cedric and Celine Hardy."

The blond woman leaned over the counter and waved at the toddlers. "Hi, kids. I'm Barbie. You two will have a lot of fun here at the Sunshine Room!" Barbie exclaimed.

"Uncle John – the Barbie doll is scary!" Celine exclaimed as she stamped her little feet.

"Aren't they so adorable?" Barbie cooed, totally oblivious to Celine's distress. "And can I have your name, sir?"

I had totally zoned out when she started to rant on and on about the Sunshine Room. It took me a minute to realize that she expected an answer out of me. "What?"

"Can I have your name, sir?" Barbie asked once more. This time, she leaned in a little closer and tried to stuff her over-sized bust into my face. "And your telephone number?"

"Earlier, you only asked for my name. Now you need my number too?" I asked. I was a little bit skeptical of this 'Barbie'. She seemed entirely fake, at least to me.

"It's for the record." She explained. "So, if you forget to pick up Cedric and Celine, we can call you to remind you." Barbie said tiredly.

"What kind of parent forgets their kids at daycare?" I exclaimed.

"Please, sir." Barbie leaned so far over that I was afraid her breasts would fall out of her shirt. "Give me your name and number. Please?" I could smell her extremely overpriced perfume.

Just then, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I almost leaped out of my skin. But then, I felt Dwayne's warm mouth close in on the junction between my neck and my shoulder. I leaned back into his firm chest and felt him smile against my neck. Barbie scoffed and a look between embarrassment and disgust formed on her face. Even if it was a little immature, I turned around and kissed Dwayne just to spite her.

Dwayne pulled back and stared at her as if she had grown a third head. He looked between her and I, before he casually threw an arm over my shoulders and drew me into his chest. I flushed a dark red and buried my face in his chest. He didn't seem fazed by my embarrassment at all. Barbie huffed and typed in some information. She turned to us with an extremely fake smile.

"Well, sir. As it turns out, you actually work in the gym. Don't worry about any of that information I asked about earlier." Barbie waved it off. "I'll see you in a few hours!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah." Once we were out of earshot of the blond, "Unfortunately."

Work went by with relative ease. It was nice to have Dwayne there with me. We hadn't talked since our last date and I had missed him. Whenever the Snack Bar wasn't overly busy, we would hold hands and he would pass on little compliments about my appearance. I would blush and try to shut him up, but it never worked. Secretly, I didn't really want to shut him up. I loved it when he told me how beautiful I was. Nobody had ever done that before.

After I was done my shift, we went back to my townhouse. Normally, he would take me out to dinner, but I didn't want to be too far from home for when Jeff came to pick up Cedric and Celine. So, with the two toddlers asleep in the little beds upstairs, I curled up on the couch with Dwayne. He was so warm, almost like a Teddybear. It's sad to admit that a twenty-one year old still wants a teddy, but I never had one as a child.

"I never knew that you were a cuddler." Dwayne said sarcastically. I chuckled softly and burrowed deeper into his side. Dwayne slowly started to stroke my hair.

"I never knew that you were bald." I retorted. Dwayne laughed loudly and started to tickle me. I let out a loud shriek, but not too loud so as to awaken the toddlers, and started to fight back weakly.

"You know that you're extremely cute when you laugh." Dwayne said. He stopped tickling me and I took a calming breath. "And I love your smile, Candy-Ass. You're just… totally beautiful. Totally."

"You think I'm beautiful?" I had asked this so many times, but it never ceased to amaze me when I heard the answer.

"I think that you're drop-dead gorgeous, baby. I couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend." Dwayne said sweetly. He continued to stroke my hair softly. "But I should really head back home. It's late."

"Wait!" I called out. I didn't want him to leave. "What was it that you wanted to tell me? Why can't you tell me now?"

"You'll just have to wait till the weekend to find out." Dwayne said sweetly. And with that, he took off.

Crap. I should have mentioned that I really hated surprises.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long for me to update. Here is another chapter and I hope to have the next one up tomorrow. Please remember to review – they make me want to update faster!


	8. The Weekend

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 8/? – The Weekend

**OOOO**

I arrived at Dwayne's house at 12:00 PM on Friday.

Dwayne answered the door with a broad smile. "Welcome to my humble abode, Candy-Ass. Come on inside and make yourself at home." Dwayne moved aside and allowed me into his home.

I walked inside and couldn't believe my eyes. It looked like someone had melted down all of the world's most precious metals and lined the walls with them. "Wow… it's absolutely beautiful in here."

Dwayne's smile never faltered. "You think so?" I nodded. "My Ma had a hand in that. She always said that a little dash of color adds some excitement to life."

"You must have an extremely exciting life then." I tossed back. It wasn't even meant to be sarcastic.

"I'd like to think so." Dwayne said. "C'mon; I'll show you around."

Dwayne showed me around his house. It wasn't even really a house. It was more like a mansion. There were three floors, which didn't include the attic or the basement. The first floor consisted of the kitchen, dining room, den, and living room. Dwayne explained that the den was more of a formal living room. It was filled with fancy furniture and no food was allowed inside of there. I nodded, still amazed by how beautiful it all looked.

The second floor consisted of four bedrooms and two bathrooms. One of the bathrooms was in the Master Suite, and it had a whirlpool Jacuzzi-style bathtub _and_ a walk-in shower. The bedroom to the far left was decorated with different shades of pink from head to toe. Dwayne walked by and it and explained that the other two bedrooms were currently used to store books and what not. The other bathroom was by the all-pink bedroom.

But the third floor was by far the most spectacular. It was a full library. Books lined the walls, ceiling to floor, as far as the eye could see. The bookcases were a rich, honey golden color. The few windows that peeked out from between the bookcases had red and gold drapes on them. And there were several sleek, gold couches all over the room. Lamps stood on tables beside the couches to allow the reader optimum light to read by.

"Do you like books, John?" Dwayne asked softly. I was too stunned to speak, and when Dwayne saw this, he laughed and shook his head. He wore a fond smile as he walked over to one of the bookcases.

"Is that Poe?" I asked. Dwayne nodded. "You have the full collection of short stories and poems by Edgar Allan Poe?" I asked once more, astonished.

"I may not have mentioned that my Ma was a real literature buff. She loved all of these books and taught me to love them too." Dwayne explained. "And if you like Poe, then wait until you see this."

He took one of the rolling ladders and rolled it over to the bookcase. He held it in place and motioned for me to climb up. It didn't take me long to find what he meant. "You have all of the Stephen King novels, too?"

"Of course." Dwayne nodded. "Why don't you bring that one down with you?"

Unsure of what he intended to do with it, I did as he instructed. The minute that both of my feet touched the floor, he swept me into his arms and carried me over to one of the sleek couches. I made a soft cry of protest, but it was really kind of useless. Dwayne was much bigger and stronger than I was. He dropped down onto the couch and I let out a small yelp of surprise. I hadn't even realized that my arms had hooked around his neck until he started laughing.

"Are we a little nervous, Johnny?" Dwayne asked with a sarcastic smirk on his face. I smacked him lightly upside the head and he chuckled maniacally.

"You take divine pleasure in my misery, don't you?" I asked. Dwayne only continued to laugh.

Dwayne looked at the front cover of the book. _Carrie_. I warned Dwayne that I didn't have much of a stomach for horror stories, but he told me that he would be there to protect me and it wouldn't be as scary if he read it to me and held me at the same time. Besides, if I loved Poe so much, how could I _not_ like horror stories? He had a point. Not that I would ever admit that out loud, of course.

So, I leaned back against his chest and allowed him to stroke my hair softly. Carrie's story was so heartbreakingly sad at times, but at others, it was undeniably freaky. For most of the story, I was clenching Dwayne's shirt in my balled-up fists and burying my face in his chest. Even the smallest noise sent me twenty feet into the air. But every time that I became distressed, Dwayne would rub my back and tell me that it would be okay.

After a few hours, my stomach rumbled noisily. Dwayne marked what page we were on in the book and smiled down at me. "You ready to eat, Candy-Ass? You sound kinda hungry."

"You heard that?" A dark blush stained my cheeks. "Yeah, I am a little hungry. But, I don't want to be an inconvenience. I mean, you don't have to go out of your way to…"

Dwayne shook his head. "It's not any trouble, John. Let's go get something to eat."

**OOOO**

"So, I'm sure that you're wondering what I wanted to tell you about." Dwayne took a slow breath and closed his eyes. "This is really hard for me and I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, but when I tell you, I think you'll understand."

I looked at him uncertainly. "Don't tell me you're married. Or, that you're some kind of crazy, psychotic serial killer." Dwayne actually laughed and that seemed to break the tension. "Thank God. You actually kinda scared me there."

Dwayne shook his head. "No. I have _many_ skeletons in the closet, but none like that."

I smiled at him. "Good to know that I won't find any bodies in shallow graves in the backyard."

Dwayne looked at me oddly. "You watch _way_ too much television, kid."

I shook my head. "No. I'm just addicted to ID. There's this one show, _Nightmare Next Door_, and in the opening credits there is this shallow grave in the backyard. It freaks me out every time." I confessed.

"Well, you won't have to worry about that here. The only thing in the backyard is my Ma's award-winning rose bushes." Dwayne said. "Let's sit down so that he can talk more comfortably."

We sat down in the den. It felt a little uncomfortable for me. I had never been on a couch that had plastic seat protectors on it before. Dwayne motioned for me to make myself comfortable and I tried to do so. Once I was finally able to settle down, I noticed that Dwayne had a picture frame in his hands. He studied it carefully and I was almost sure that there were a few tears in his chocolate brown eyes.

Dwayne set the frame on the table. I took a moment to study the contents. Little stick-on foam letters at the bottom read 'Summer'. A little girl stared back at me from behind the glass. She was thin and frail, but her smile was radiant. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old. She was in a pink floral bathing suit and had a multi-colored beach ball in her hands. I looked to Dwayne, who looked down at his hands sadly.

"Her name is Summer Johnson. She was six when she…" here, Dwayne started to choke on his words and he fell silent for a moment. "She had a tumor in her brain. The doctor said she had been born with it."

I shook my head. "I am so, so sorry. No child deserves to experience that. Was that her…" I wasn't sure whether or not I should ask, but now Dwayne was looking at me expectantly. "Was that her bedroom upstairs?"

Dwayne nodded and wiped a few tears from his eyes. "Yes. That was her room. That still _is_ her room."

I had head of this coping device before. If someone loses someone close to them, they tend to keep objects that that person had cherished nearby. In this case, Dwayne had left her room untouched since the day that she left for the hospital and never came home. It was incredibly sad. There were really no words to describe it. But now that Dwayne had been honest with me, I felt compelled to tell him a secret of mine as well.

"Dwayne." He turned to me expectantly. I looked down because I was afraid to meet his eyes. "I've never told anyone this before, but I _trust_ you. I really hope that this is the right decision…"

Dwayne tilted my chin back so that our eyes met. "What's the matter, Candy-Ass? You know that you can tell me anything and everything that's on your mind, don't you? I'm there for you, just like I know you're there for me."

I smiled at him. Dwayne was the first person that I knew well enough to put my full trust in – besides Steph, of course. "That means a lot."

Dwayne leaned forward and pecked me on the lips. "What's on your mind?"

"Well…" I trailed off and tried to find the words. "You wanted to know about my childhood."

"Yeah, I still do. But only if you're ready to tell me, Johnny. I don't want you to feel compelled to do so just because I did." Dwayne said. He had a look of raw concern on his face. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I nodded. "I'm sure."

"Okay, then." Dwayne flashed me his best smile and tried to make me relax. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and kissed my forehead. "Whenever you're ready."

"When I was six years old, my mother, Carole, died. I don't remember much about her. All I really know is that she tried her best to shield me from the world, from my father and my brothers. They were all incredibly abusive to us. But, I remember that she used to read me fairytales. But after she died, my father said fairytales don't exist.

"I realized that I was gay when I was sixteen and my father didn't like that at all. He decided that he wanted to beat it out of me. He told me that it wasn't natural. It was a disease and it had to be purged from my body. The beatings never worked, so he tried to… starve me. That didn't work either. But I lied to him and told him that it did.

"And then, two months after that, one of my father's friends stuck a needle in my arm and shot me up with morphine. I can honestly say that it ruined my life. I've been addicted ever since… almost five years now. But ever since I saw you again in Cameron, I tried my best to stay clean. It's just… it's incredibly difficult."

I studied Dwayne's facial expressions carefully. I needed to know what kind of ground I was on now. Would he kick me out? Would he dump me? Would he try to stuff me into some kind of rehabilitation center? I wasn't sure. But I _did_ know that, the longer he remained silent, the more uncomfortable I became. After several moments of silence, I shook my head and felt a few tears brew in my eyes. I knew that this had been a bad idea.

But then, I felt one of Dwayne's strong hands hook around my wrist and force me back down onto the couch. I tumbled onto his lap rather unceremoniously and almost knocked over Summer's photo with my foot. Dwayne took hold of my face with his meaty bear-like hands and pressed our mouths together in a bruising kiss. It took my breath away and I was literally gasping for air when he drew back with a soft smile.

"To be totally honest, I knew about the addiction from the moment I met you." Dwayne said seriously. "You had a scar on your wrist from where the needle had been injected. Someone must've really tried to hurt you."

"You're not… you don't want to… you won't leave me because of this, will you?" I asked weakly, almost afraid of the inevitable answer.

Dwayne kissed me again. "It'll take a lot more for you to get rid of me, baby. I want to help you overcome this hurdle. I want to be there for you." Dwayne said honestly.

"Thank you." I said. I leaned into his chest and relished in the warmth and comfort he provided.

**OOOO**

I stretched out on Dwayne's bed and watched as Dwayne hovered over me. He knew that I wasn't ready to go all the way, at least not yet. Maybe after we knew more about each other… but I already felt like I could trust him with this. If he knew about my addiction, then I felt it safe to trust him with my body. Still, I couldn't help but flinch when he popped one of the buttons on my shirt. He leaned down and kissed me and I immediately relaxed.

Dwayne assured me that he wouldn't hurt me and I believed him. Slowly, he motioned for me to lean forward and he slid the shirt off of my torso. Gently, he lowered me back down to the bed. And then, he let his hands roam freely over his chest, abdomen, and stomach areas. I could tell that he was impressed by the fact that I was clean-shaven. His hand came to rest above my heart, and then he kissed the skin above it softly.

He kissed a trail down to my waistband. Slowly, his chocolate eyes flickered up and locked with my icy blue ones. "Are you sure that you want to do this, John? I don't want you to feel like I forced you into this."

I shook my head. "No, Dwayne. I'm absolutely sure about this. Don't worry about me, okay?"

"I do worry about you, John. You're my boyfriend. It's my job." Dwayne smiled down at me. "And it's a job that I love. I promise that I won't hurt you, okay?"

I bit down on the inside of my mouth and felt my eyes flutter as Dwayne popped the button on my jeans and pulled them down, followed by my boxers. "I trust you, Dwayne. I know you won't hurt me."

Dwayne slicked his hand with lube. "Good."

A comfortable silence fell over us. Dwayne lay down beside me and shifted me onto my side, before he reached between my legs and teased my sac with his slick fingers. I let out a moan of pleasure and bucked into his hand. Dwayne smirked and leaned forward, kissing me teasingly. His hand moved up and started to stroke my erection. I rocked my hips in time with every stroke, relishing the ball of heat the formed in my stomach at his touch alone.

Dwayne continued to rain kisses all over my skin, from my cheeks, to my forehead, to my neck, and down to my chest. I loved the trust that I felt blossom between us. But then, he did something that surprised me. He reached out and took hold of my arm, the same arm that was scarred from the needle that had injected that hit of morphine into my system when I was sixteen, and he kissed it.

Totally shocked, I came with a muffled moan. Dwayne cleaned me off with a nearby washcloth. "You okay there, baby? Are you tired?"

"Yeah… I'm kinda tired. I just… I can't believe that you're not mad at me about this. I mean, if I had told anyone else, they would have thought that I was just useless baggage and left me behind." I mumbled.

"I know one person that wouldn't." Dwayne said confidently.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Who?"

"Do you know that you're like a little brother to Steph? She totally adores you, John. I'm sure that if you confided in her, she would only want to help you. Do you want to try?" Dwayne asked.

"To be honest, I never really thought of Steph. I mean, they were all so kind to me, and I may have hit up a few times while I was with them… I just never wanted to disappoint her." I said, ashamed of my behavior.

"You could never disappoint her, baby. All she wants to do is help you. I just want you to allow her to do just that." Dwayne said. "How about you call her tomorrow morning before you leave for work? Okay?"

"If you're sure that she won't be mad at me…" I trailed off.

"Candy-Ass, I wouldn't tell you to do it unless I was absolutely sure that she would be okay with it. I wouldn't set you up like that. Please… just do this for me. I want you to have a support system." Dwayne said honestly.

I looked at him uncertainly, but then I saw the honesty in his eyes. "Okay."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	9. The Call To Steph, Another Month Down

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 9/? – The Call to Steph, Another Month Down

**OOOO**

It was the end of my second month in Cameron and one week after my fabulous weekend with Dwayne that I remembered I had promised to call Steph…

If I were to be totally honest with myself, I knew the reason that I didn't want to call her. I didn't want to worry her. If I called her and told her about my addiction, she would literally drop whatever she was doing and make the ten hour drive to Cameron in less than seven. Like I said before, I know her too well. She has a business to run and a family to look out for. I had been able to survive on my own for two months now and I liked it like that.

But then I remembered back to that conversation with Dwayne. It hadn't been easy for him to tell me about Summer and how she had died. Dwayne wanted to help make me better; he wanted to help me battle this addiction. It was a battle that I knew that I couldn't win on my own. I officially had one month under my belt now, but I knew that I stood on loose soil and any minute the ground could cave and suck me back into that pit of darkness…

So, I called in sick at the gym. Jake didn't seem like he minded too terribly. Actually, it sounded like he was in the middle of one of his 'meetings' with his co-owner husband, Nick. They never talked business. I once had the misfortune to come in for my check and find Nick under the desk giving Jake head. Needless to say, after that fateful encounter, I asked Jake to send Eve downstairs with my check every Friday.

I paced around the house for a little while. Maybe I was a little bit of a procrastinator at heart, not that I would ever admit to that out loud. Finally, I sat down on the couch and turned the television on with the volume on 'mute'. I had left the channel on Cartoon Network, and now one of those old _Tom & Jerry_ cartoons was on the screen. I stared at the wireless phone for several minutes, unsure of myself. Finally, I dialed her number.

"_Hello, you have reached Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. What can I do for you?"_ Steph asked. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. Dwayne assured me that Steph would want to help me, after all.

"Hi, Steph. This is John." I smiled as Steph started to gush over the line. She would always be that mother-hen. "I need to talk to you. But… promise me that you won't be mad, okay? This is really hard for me."

"_What's the matter, Johnny? Do you need me to come out there? Is it Dwayne? I'll kick his egomaniacal ass for you."_ Steph ranted like a mad woman. _"I won't be mad, just tell me what the matter is."_

"I'm an addict." I mumbled underneath my breath.

"_What?"_ Of course, she didn't hear me. I took a breath and mustered all of my courage.

"I'm an addict. I'm addicted to morphine. I need help." I said softly.

Steph was silent for a moment. And then, I heard keys ruffle in the distance. _"Oh, my poor Johnny baby. Why would I be mad at you about this? You've acknowledged the fact that you need help. That's the first step."_

I felt a few tears brew in my eyes and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. "I honestly don't know what to do, Steph. I know that I need to see a counselor but I'm afraid to ask for help…"

Steph huffed. _"You just need some help, baby. I'll talk to my father and see if I can take a few weeks off and come down to see you. But I'm sure that he will. We'll talk more then, okay?"_

"Okay." I sniffled and rubbed at my eyes. I felt like such a baby. "Thank you, Steph."

"_Don't mention it, baby. Don't mention it." _She said.

I ended the call and stretched out on the couch. I looked at the television and watched as Tom chased Jerry around the house with a mallet, managing to somehow destroy every piece of furniture and create large, misshapen holes in the walls. I dried my eyes and walked over into the kitchen. Grabbing a bowl from the cabinet, I filled it with some trail mix that I had made earlier in the week. It consisted of cheese crackers, popcorn, M&Ms, and small pretzel balls.

After I had filled it about halfway, I walked back over to the couch and sat down. With my feet on the table, I started to flip through the channels. There wasn't much on at this hour. _Max and Ruby_, _Criminal Minds_ reruns, a new episode of _The Mentalist_, and _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ were on. I flipped back to _Criminal Minds_ and watched as Derek Morgan confronted his childhood abuser. I turned off the mute and leaned back in the chair.

The phone started to ring. I reached out and took hold of it, answering without looking at the Caller ID. "Hello. You've reached John Cena. Who is this?"

"_This is your loving, dutiful boyfriend, Dwayne Johnson. I wanted to call and see if you wanted to come out to lunch with me?"_ Dwayne asked.

"Sure. You want to pick me up around 12:00?" I looked at the clock. It was 10:30 now.

"_Okay. I'll see you then."_ Dwayne said, before he ended the call.

**OOOO**

"So… were you married before?" I asked after we ordered our food and turned in our menus. "I mean, when we were in the library, I saw a bunch of photos on the mantle. Was that your husband?"

Dwayne drank some of his water. "Yeah, I was married before. His name was Cody Runnells. He was a cute little number, but not nearly as cute as you are. He's the son of The American Dream."

"The American Dream? As in, the billionaire clothing designer that brings expensive, red carpet style clothes to normal-people prices?" I asked. The shock hadn't quite sunk in yet.

"Yeah. That would be him." Dwayne affirmed. "He was a real nice kid. He got pregnant with Summer before we were married and we married shortly after he told me. But, he couldn't… he didn't stick around after…"

"It's okay." I reached out and touched his hand. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Dwayne smiled at me weakly. "Thank you."

We ate in relative silence. I couldn't help but think about Cody Runnells, Dwayne's ex-husband. I had heard stories about the boy before – most circulated around the fact that he was a beautiful diva with a horrific mean streak. If someone ticked him off, the consequences could be disastrous. From what I had heard, he modeled his father's clothing line. But he was in hot water with the law because he assaulted a man who called him 'fat'.

However, if Dwayne had married him, he couldn't be _that_ bad. I knew that Dwayne had been hurt before, but I believed that I knew him well enough to make the assumption that he wouldn't put himself into the corner like that. Above all, I trusted Dwayne's judgment. He wouldn't have allowed Cody to stay in his and Summer's lives if he was a threat to their mental and physical safety. I was broken out of my reverie when Dwayne cleared his throat.

"I've answered a question for you, now it's your turn to answer one for me." Dwayne said and I nodded. It only seemed fair, after all. "Okay, then… what's your favorite book?"

"Really?" I chuckled blandly. Of all of the questions that he could have asked me, he wanted to know what my favorite book was? "Okay. I'll humor you. My favorite book is Tantalize by Cynthia Leitich Smith."

Dwayne looked shocked. "I wouldn't have pinned you as a vampire or werewolf kinda boy."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't like _all_ vampire/werewolf books. I can't stand Twilight."

Dwayne laughed. "Okay. My faith in humanity has now been restored. It's your turn to ask the question."

I finished my food and pushed the plate to the side. "If you could travel anywhere in the world, and I do mean _anywhere_, where would you go?"

"Hmm… quite the loaded question, Candy-Ass." Dwayne said.

"I can answer first." I offered. "I would want to travel to the Caribbean. It's nice and warm there."

"And it's _not_ warm enough here for you in Cameron?" Dwayne asked sarcastically. "Now, if I could travel anywhere in the world… does that mean with anyone, too?"

"Anywhere you want, anyone you want." I said.

Dwayne smiled. "I think that I'd like to take you Miami, because that's my hometown. That way I could take you to meet my Ma. I think that you two would like each other a lot."

"Aww… that's so sweet, Dwayne." I cooed, a small, dreamy smile on my face.

Dwayne rolled his eyes. I believe that he called me a drama queen under his breath, but I didn't really care. I would rather be a drama queen and have him know how I felt then for him to always wonder and eventually leave me because I couldn't confess how I felt. Maybe it was too early to say 'I love you', but I was already sure that that was how I felt. After three months of knowing him, I was already head-over-heels for Dwayne Johnson.

The waiter came back and asked us if we wanted some dessert. I was stuffed, but Dwayne wanted some dessert, so we decided that we would split some pumpkin pie. He came back a moment later with a thick slice of pie with a huge dollop of whipped cream at the mouth. I had never had pumpkin pie before (sweets were a rare delicacy in my childhood), so Dwayne took a small bite off with his fork and fed it to me.

"How does it taste?" Dwayne asked softly. He set the fork down beside the plate and watched as I ate the delicious delicacy. "It's good, isn't it?"

"It's delicious." I smiled at him.

We finished the pie and Dwayne paid for our meal. It always impressed me that he never asked me to split the bill or even to pay for it myself. Neither of us were all that well off, but he knew that I was a little worse for wear than he was. He took care of me and I admired him for that. I had always wanted someone that I could lean on when I was weak and was strong enough to carry me for a little while. I didn't always want to carry all of my burdens.

And somehow, a half-hour later, we stood on my doorstep. "I had a fantastic time with you, Johnny. I have an out-of-state school field trip next week, so I won't be around. But after that, maybe we could meet for lunch again?"

I nodded hurriedly. "I would like that. Good luck on the field trip and please… be safe."

"I will be." Dwayne smiled at me. "I don't plan on ever having to leave you behind."

If only he knew that that was one promise that he wouldn't be able to keep…

**OOOO**

Early the next day, Steph arrived. She was extremely excited when I opened the door. She had three suitcases with her and from the size of them, I could only assume that she had brought her entire wardrobe with her. I told her to leave them outside and I would take care of them with her. Steph smiled and thanked me. I took the suitcases and carried them into the spare bedroom where Steph would stay.

When I came back, she immediately enveloped me in a warm embrace. I had missed her so much and I found it all too easy to just melt into her arms. The future looked so dim. I was afraid of what the detox would entail. I had already come far, I knew that. The worst was behind me. But I knew that one slip up would ruin all of my hard work and I would feel horrible if I allowed myself to cave under the pressure like that.

"Baby, look at me. Look at me." Slowly, I turned my head so that I could look her in the eye. "Daddy gave me four months off so that I could help you out. That will make it five months clean, won't it?"

I nodded. "It has been one month since I last touched a needle. I took all of them and threw them out. But it has become harder with all of the work and the stress. I love both of my jobs, but…"

"Sometimes it's all just extremely difficult." Steph finished for me.

"Yes." I breathed out.

"Well, I'm here to help you. I'll be the friend that you need. You can turn to me when life becomes that hard. Okay?" Steph said and I nodded. "Now, I have the name of a wonderful counselor that you can talk to."

"What is the name of the counselor?" I asked, suddenly interested. Embarrassment aside, I knew that I would not be able to get my medical license if I didn't get clean sometime soon.

"His name is Ryback." Steph said. "He may seem a little rough and tough, but trust me, underneath the surface, he's just a loveable teddy bear. He'll help you overcome your demons. You just have to take the first step and call him."

I nodded. I knew that, no matter how much Steph tried to help me, the first step to recovery had to be mine. Steph handed over the name and number of Ryback's office. I walked over and pinned it up to the fridge. From the note that Steph had written down, it said that Ryback's office wasn't open today. I didn't want to be a bother so I decided to call tomorrow. Tomorrow, my life would change forever. I could only hope that I was ready for it.

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	10. A Date With The Counselor

**Title:** The Life of an Ex-Addict

**World:** AU

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Angst/Drama

**Pair(s):** Dwayne/John, Randy/John

**Summary:** John Cena has had a difficult life. As the son of a mob boss, he never really knew what love was. And his four older brothers intend to show him that he can either submit to the influence of the mob or he can die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, besides the kids.

**Dedication:** This is for CENTON JADE SLASH, who requested this dark fic with this specific plot.

**Warning:** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

**Part:** 10/? – A Date With The Counselor

**OOOO**

I walked into Ryback's office and sat down. When the man turned around to face me, I almost had a heart attack. He was _well_ over six-feet-tall and close to three-hundred pounds, but it was _all_ muscle. He was bald, but he had a small amount of dark brown stubble across his chin. And his eyes were an incredible shade of blue. The color rivaled a clear, summer sky. Steph had told me that he was a bodybuilder. I believed that he was a monster.

"So, Mr. Cena, I'm Ryback and I will be your counselor. We will have two hour sessions three days a week, but you can chose the days that are most comfortable to you. But I'm not here on Wednesdays." Ryback said.

"Okay. Um… I have work every day of the week, but that's only from nine to six. I'm sure that we could work a schedule out." I nodded and smiled at him weakly.

Ryback nodded. "May I call you John?" I made a soft, affirmative noise. "Okay, John. I would like you to tell me a little bit about yourself. What was your childhood like? Why did you move to Cameron?"

I chuckled darkly, but there was no real humor behind it. "My childhood was the reason for this whole mess."

Ryback looked at me seriously. "Explain."

"My father was an abusive bastard who always wanted to hurt me." I elaborated. "_He_ did this to me."

Ryback took a few notes down. "So, there is some drama between you and your father. Tell me more about him."

I wasn't sure if I should confess that my father is associated with the mob, so I didn't. "He was a cheater. He cheated on my mother a lot. In their marital bed, too. It was horrible."

"Your mother… you don't mention her much." Ryback stated. "I assume that the abuse became worse after she was out of the picture?" Ryback asked.

"She died when I was little. I really don't remember all that much about her. But that wasn't what you asked, was it? You wanted to know if the abuse became worse. Yes, much, _much_ worse." I said.

I had promised Steph that I would be entirely truthful and I meant every word of it. It would be useless to lie to Ryback. If I wanted to become better, then I would have to accept the fact that my father was an abusive bastard and I was his favorite victim. And if it would help me to overcome this horrific addiction, then I would take that step and lay all of my cards out on the table for him. He could help me. I was sure of it.

Ryback told me to make myself comfortable and I did just that. He warmed me some tea and slid it across the table. It smelled like herbal tea, and I remember that my mother used to make me herbal tea when I was little. A few tears bristled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I would put on my best brave face, because I wasn't weak by any means. I could fend for myself. My addiction was just a minor setback.

"Tell me about your father." Ryback said. He scribbled a few notes down onto his clipboard. "Just tell me as much as you are comfortable with. I don't want to feel like I've forced you into a corner with this."

"No. It's fine. The only way that I can overcome this addiction is if I face the cause of it, right? My father had five children, my four older brothers and I. Kevin and I are the only ones related to Ma by blood." I explained.

"Your father cheated on your mother?" Ryback asked.

I nodded. "All of the time. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to find him with some nameless slut every other day. They just wanted him for his money. If they got pregnant, they dumped the kids on the front doorstep."

"That's a shame. It must've been difficult to witness this kind of behavior as a child. Especially because, from the sound of it, you were rather close to your mother."

"He didn't even care that she had died. He called her a bitch and said that she had lied to me my whole life."

"Did you believe him?" Ryback asked.

I was silent for a moment, before I hesitantly nodded. "Yeah. Guess I did."

"Your father seemed like he was extremely manipulative. Tell me how this played into your teen years." Ryback said.

"I found out that I was," here, my eyes flicked up to gage his reaction, before they fell back down to the table. "I found out that I was gay when I was sixteen. Needless to say, he wasn't ecstatic to find out that his son was gay."

"What did he do?" Ryback asked innocently. It _should_ have been an innocent question, but it wasn't. Not really.

"Do I have to?" I asked weakly. I cursed myself as my voice trembled.

"It would make it easier for you to confront your demons later on if they're not hiding in the dark." Ryback explained. "But like I said earlier, I don't want you to feel as if I've forced you to confess something."

I was silent for several minutes. However, I knew that what Ryback was said was totally true. So, I told him. I told him about how my father had beaten me and locked me in The Punishment Room. When he asked what The Punishment Room was, I explained to him that it was a room in the basement that didn't have any windows and the bed was an old, rotted cot. I told him that I had been forced to wear a dog collar and had been chained to a pole.

I later explained that I had been fed from a dish, and when I felt extremely weak, someone would come downstairs and throw a bucket of water with ice chips on me. It was a horrific experience that my father had orchestrated to try and 'scare' the homosexuality out of me. From then on, I was forced to lie about how I was. I didn't want to be hurt anymore. So I told him that when I left for university, I would find a nice girl and we would marry and have three kids.

Ryback wrote down several notes. "I think that you are making excellent progress, John. I am glad that you trust me enough to be able to tell me all of this. How do you feel?"

"I feel… good." I said honestly. "It's nice to be able to say that. I mean, I haven't felt this nice in awhile. Thank you for that." I told him with a smile.

"It's because you finally have all of this off of your chest. I would recommend you find someone that you trust to talk to. Tell them about this and don't hold it all inside." Ryback explained.

"I think that I'll try that. Thank you." I said.

"Good." Ryback said as he scribbled down a date on an appointment card. "I'll see you in two days, John."

I nodded and took the card. "I'm actually… looking forward to it."

**OOOO**

The next two months were relatively uneventful. I continued to see Ryback on a consistent basis. We talked about my four older brothers and my relationships with them. I still wasn't ready to admit that they had raped me, but I did hint to it a few times. I was sure that Ryback could tell that there was more to the story than I let on, but like he said on numerous occasions, he wouldn't force me to tell until I was ready.

Phil came home from the hospital at the end of his third month of treatment. He would have been home sooner, but he had developed an infection in his lung and had been forced to undergo a series of invasive treatments. Because of the fact that he know had a significant sized scar on his lung, he had been forced to turn in his badge and retire from the force. Jeff had ordered him to rest for a few months, before he decided to head back to school for a degree.

My relationship with Dwayne was going extremely well. Better than would be expected for a first love, but I think that we both wanted to take it slow. Dwayne was still hurting from Cody and I had a few demons in the closet, after all. However, we were now into month four of our relationship. It's the spring time, and Ryback has put me on an anti-depressant to help my cravings when my mood starts to swing. I was extremely thankful for them.

"I hear that your counselor has helped you a lot. Steph only has the highest praise for him." Dwayne said as he brought our dinner into the dining room. "She even asked her father to give him a raise."

"Oh. Please, don't." I mumbled underneath my breath, even if she wasn't around to hear me. "I'm already embarrassed about the fact that they had to pay for it from the start."

"Don't worry about it, Candy-Ass. I'm sure if you annoyed him enough, Vince would let you pay him back." Dwayne said. I slapped him on the arm and watched as he laughed.

"Oh, so I'm annoying now?" I asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You know that that's not what I meant, baby." Dwayne answered.

I rolled my eyes. "What did you make for dinner?"

"Chicken. Chicken, with a small side salad and apple pie for dessert." Dwayne said.

I smiled at him and tasted the food. It was delicious. "This tastes wonderful. I'm dating a chef _and_ a baker. Who would've thought?" I smiled at him innocently.

Dwayne wore a look of false hurt. It was his turn to smack me on the arm indignantly. "I should be insulted! I _am_ good for something, you know!" Dwayne huffed.

I calmed down enough to offer him a sweet smile. "You're good for a lot of stuff, Dwayne."

We ate in comfortable silence. True to my original belief, the food was absolutely delicious. Dwayne nicknamed me the 'human vacuum', because every bit of food that was on my plate was devoured in a matter of seconds. It was so delicious that I couldn't help myself. And once all of the pie had been eaten, I leaned back in my seat and rubbed my swollen belly in slow circles. I was absolutely _stuffed._

Dwayne teased me as he took all of the dishes into the kitchen. He then walked over to me and scooped me up into his arms bridal style. I chuckled and kicked my legs, protesting weakly. He was every bit the knight in shining armor that I heard about in the fairytales that my Momma used to read to me. He carried me upstairs and tossed me down onto the bed. I chuckled, but my smile fell when he looked at the clock.

"I really should head home. It's late and I have school tomorrow." Dwayne said softly. I pouted. I wasn't ready for him to leave yet.

"Please, Dwayne. Just stay with me. Just for tonight. I just… I really don't want to be alone." I said honestly. A few tears shimmered in my eyes.

"Okay." Dwayne climbed into bed with me. I rolled over and put my head on his chest.

"You make me feel safe." I mumbled softly as sleep overcame me.

The last words that I heard were, "I'll always be there to make you feel that way."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


	11. The First Time

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

The next few weeks were a breeze. I still saw Ryback three times in a week and I found that with each session I became a little bit more comfortable in my own skin. I realized that, while I may never receive the closure that I crave, to be able to come face-to-face with my issue and to understand it will help to illuminate those dark corners. Ryback also told me that I don't need to be accepted by others. The only opinion that matters is my own.

It was now month six. It had actually been seven months since I had first left home, but it was month six of my relationship with Dwayne. He had asked me to move in with him and I had said yes. Trish had been extremely excited for me. Since I moved out with thirty days notice, she wanted to give me back my full security deposit. However, I told her to keep half so that she could afford to maintain the townhouse until she found a new tenant.

Steph had been over the moon as well. She had wanted to stay for the full four months, but her husband had been attacked at the bar by an overly-drunk patron and had suffered a broken arm and some torn tendons. I had assured her that I was fine and that she needed to be with Hunter, and she had been extremely thankful for that. She left before the move was final, but the fact that she approved of the relationship made me feel much better.

And now… I think I'm ready. No, I _know_ that I'm ready. Over the last two months, we've danced around sex with occasional touches and heartfelt caresses. It's never developed further than that and Dwayne has never pushed the matter. I really admire him for that. But now, I'm ready. It's the first night that we're living together as a couple and I want to make it special. I want to show him how much I love him. And even if he's not my first, he'll be my last.

* * *

"Dwayne." I entered our bedroom and sat down on the bed beside him. The older man had a book in his hands and I realized that it was a collection of stories by Poe. "Um… I wanted to tell you that I'm…"

Dwayne set the book on the bedside table and rolled over onto his side so that he could look me in the eye. "What's the matter, Candy-Ass? You look a little nervous."

"I wanted to tell you that I'm ready. I want you to make love to me." I mumbled. I mouthed the words behind the sleeve of my shirt, totally embarrassed. My face burned with shame.

"Are you sure?" Unfortunately, Dwayne _had_ heard me. "You seem a little nervous, baby."

I smiled a little at that. Dwayne only called me 'baby' when he wanted to comfort me. "I'm sure. I want to be with you."

Dwayne nodded and carefully coaxed me to stretch out on the bed. I wasn't sure how I felt about the fact that he treated me like an expensive China doll, so easily breakable that it should sit on a shelf for its entire life. However, I didn't want to seem as if I wasn't interested. His hands tenderly guided different parts of my body to lay in a certain way, and when I was situated in the way that he wanted me to be, he started to take off my shirt.

Immediately, I was uneasy about this. What would he think about my body? And then I scoffed at my insecurities. It wasn't like he had never seen me naked before. This was just a different circumstance… it didn't mean that he would suddenly find me unattractive or some other such nonsense. Slowly, methodically, he peeled off my shirt and tossed it off of the bed. And then, he traced a hand over the numerous scars on my torso. Some were old, others newer.

"Where did these come from?" Dwayne wondered aloud. Since this was the first time that we would officially go 'all the way', it was best to lay all of my cards out on the table.

"My brothers." I mumbled softly, ashamed as tears came to my eyes at the memories. "They were extremely abusive, especially when I was high. Sometimes, I couldn't fight them off and they would…"

A look of disgust came over Dwayne's face and I was worried that it was directed toward me, but it wasn't. "I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt someone as precious as you. They should rot in hell."

I sniffled like a child and asked weakly, "You're not mad at me, then?"

"How could I be mad at you, baby? It wasn't your fault." Dwayne said easily. "Now, do you trust me?"

"Yes." I answered immediately. "I trust you with my life."

Dwayne smiled that laid-back, comfortable smile that made my heart melt. "Good. I want you to forget what those bastards did to you, okay? Only think about me. Only think about how wonderful I'll make you feel."

I nodded, but my mind was instantly numbed as Dwayne bent down and started to swirl his tongue in intricate patterns over my scarred flesh. I moaned and bucked into the gentle, wet touch. It awoke pleasant sensations within me that I had never felt before, and to be totally honest, it was addicting. If this was what my first time would have felt like, then maybe I wouldn't have been so scared to see Dwayne for the loving man that he was.

Almost instantly, I felt myself become hard. I mewled softly when Dwayne settled over my body and our erections brushed, the only thing between them the fabric of two thick pairs of sweatpants and two pairs of boxers. Dwayne rotated his hips and I saw stars, having to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out. But Dwayne shook his head and bit down on my lip, gently sucking on it and earning a drawn-out moan in return. He wanted to hear me.

Dwayne took his hands and slid them down my sides, warming them from the cool air that blasted from the air-conditioner. But when his hands reached the waistband of my shorts, he stilled. His brown eyes looked to mine, as if he needed permission to advance further. I hesitated for only a moment. Dwayne didn't so much as blink. And then I nodded, a small smile forming as he pulled the pants and boxers down and off in one fluid motion.

"I'll always ask for permission before I touch you, Johnny. I don't want you to feel like I've forced you into anything, okay? And if I have to wait forever for an answer, then I can do that." Dwayne said honestly.

I closed my eyes and breathed softly in relief. "Thank you. But you don't always have to treat me like a China doll, you know. I'm not _that_ breakable." I said calmly.

"You _are_ a China doll. You're _my_ China doll. Johnny, you're the most precious thing to come into this house since my baby girl was born. I don't want to take a chance and ruin that." Dwayne said.

I smiled and nodded, finally understanding. "I think I can live with that."

Dwayne only smirked, not giving me an official answer. He reached into the bedside table and took out some lube, which he used to slick his fingers. Carefully, he spread my legs and touched his middle finger to my entrance. I was a little bit scared, I hadn't done this in several months, but Dwayne leaned forward and kissed me. When he drew back, he whispered words of reassurance in my ear as he slid the first finger inside.

It felt unusual, but it didn't hurt too badly. My brothers had never prepped me before, so I didn't know what to expect. Dwayne continued to whisper words of comfort to me, and when I couldn't understand him anymore, I followed the movement of his mouth. Words continued to spill forth as his hand closed around the base of my erection and started to pump up and down, causing me to rock my hips and push down on the finger inside of my channel.

While I was preoccupied with the overwhelming sensations, Dwayne slid another finger inside of my hole. He started to scissor them back and forth, and that is when I felt the first twinge of pain. Briefly, I wondered if that was an omen of what was to come. I didn't have much time to dwell on it, however. A few seconds later, Dwayne stuffed another meaty finger inside of me. I could really feel the burn now. But then, all of a sudden, I saw stars.

"Does that feel good, baby?" Dwayne asked. He continued to jab his finger into that spot until I could feel my orgasm building fast. "Do you like the feel of my fingers inside of you?"

"Mmhmm." I moaned, unable to say more.

Dwayne drew his fingers out. "I'm just warning you, this is going to hurt a bit. But it will get better. If it doesn't, I want you to say 'Summer' and I'll stop immediately, okay? I don't want to hurt you."

I nodded. Like I said before, I trusted this man with my life. And the fact that his daughter's name was the safe word made me trust him even more. "Okay."

Dwayne slicked his cock with lube and rolled me over so that I was on my hands and knees, my ass in the air. Dwayne's meaty hands took hold of my hips and I steeled myself for the pain. He rubbed my back slowly and tried to force me to relax. He warned me that it would hurt more if I didn't. So, with a lot of difficulty, I forced myself to calm down and felt him start to slide into me.

It hurt like hell. His cock felt as if it was trying to tear me in half, but he didn't stop until he was balls-deep inside of me. I breathed heavily and tried to control myself, but the tears came unwelcomed and started to roll down my cheeks. Dwayne kissed the area between my shoulder blades to try and ease the tension, before he reached between my legs and started to stroke me back to full hardness.

After a moment, the burning pain melted into pleasure when Dwayne cocked his hips a little bit and the head of his cock brushed over that pleasure center within me. "Move." I ordered weakly.

Dwayne didn't hesitate to follow the command. He started to move at a brutally slow pace. First, he would draw out almost all of the way, only to slam back in and hit that bundle of nerves head on. Faster and faster he went, and now he stroked my cock with every slam of his hips. I buried my face in the pillow as I screamed with my release, the white-hot essence splashing over the bed. Dwayne came a moment later, spilling inside of me.

Dwayne pulled out and walked into the bathroom, only to come back with a wet, warm washcloth. He used this to clean off my spent body. "You did wonderful, Johnny. You were perfect."

I smiled and blushed, more than a little bit embarrassed by the compliment. "You're the first person who has ever called me perfect before." I confessed shyly.

"Well, then. I'll have to say it a lot more, won't I? You're perfect in every way, Johnny. You have no idea how happy I am about the fact that you're mine." Dwayne said with a smile.

I watched as he threw the towel onto the laundry pile. "Is it anywhere near as happy as I am to be with you?"

"I think that they're pretty damn close."

* * *

I had an appointment with Ryback the next day. I couldn't have been more excited. Does that seem a little bit odd, to be _excited_ to see your counselor? Anyway, I walked into his office with a little bit of an extra bounce in my step. Everyone noticed. Ryback even commented that it was like I was a new man. I had a new confidence in myself, brought on by the fact that Dwayne didn't care that I had been hurt before. He wanted to make me better.

"There has been a part of my life that I haven't told you about. I haven't been comfortable with talking about it until now." I told Ryback honestly. "You always ask me about my brothers. You want to know the truth about them."

Ryback nodded and took down a few notes onto his clipboard. "You talk about them often. Kevin, especially, who was extremely abusive. But you never told me what they did to you."

I took a deep breath and steeled myself. If I could tell this to Dwayne, then I could tell this to Ryback. "I've already told you that it was my father who originally got me addicted to morphine, right?"

"Yes. We talked about that on your first day here." Ryback confirmed.

"Well, by the time I was eighteen my addiction spiraled out of control. Most of the years between my eighteenth birthday and my twenty-first birthday are a blur. But I do remember one thing." I said grimly.

"And what is that?" Ryback asked. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"I was raped. My four brothers took advantage of my drugged state and raped me." I answered lowly.

Ryback was proud of my achievement. He said that it was a sign that I was accepting the fact that I was an addict and was embracing the help that I needed to get better. He refilled my prescription for my anti-depressants, but this time the dosage was cut in half. When I looked at him in confusion, he said that once the demons were out of the closet, I didn't have to be afraid of them anymore. I didn't exactly understand what he meant, but I accepted it.

However, I _did_ have to admit, it felt nice having the weight of the rape lessened on my shoulders. I knew that it was a reality that I would have to carry around for the rest of my life, but now that someone else knew, it didn't affect me as much somehow. And I knew _exactly_ who I would call to celebrate. It felt like an eternity since I had last talked to my friends from the townhouse duplex, Phil and Jeff. Maybe I could convince Dwayne to let me invite them over…

* * *

_"Hello, you've reached the Hardy residence. This is Phil Brooks. What can I do for you?" _I heard Phil's voice come over the speaker. Dwayne and I sat on the couch with the phone on speaker phone.

"Hey, Phil. This is John. How are you feeling?" I asked. I hadn't talked to them since Phil had gone to rehab from the hospital and I wanted to know how he was.

_"I'm fine. I think that Jeff told you that I had to leave the force because they took a chunk out of my lung, but that's okay. I don't have any resentment or anything like that."_ Phil said. _"How are you? I heard you moved in with Dwayne."_

"Great. Yeah, I did move in with Dwayne. He's really nice and he treats me really well." I said with a smile. "But, actually, the real reason that I called was that I wanted to invite you and Jeff over for dinner."

_"Really?" _Phil sounded shocked. I think that he was still shocked that I hadn't been upset about the screaming babies.

"Of course. Dwayne is an awesome cook. I'm sure that you'll love his food. Oh, and Dwayne said that the kids can come too, so you don't have to worry about finding a sitter." I offered.

_"That sounds great. I just have to double check with Jeff, but I'm sure that we can work something out."_

And everything was set.

* * *

**A/N:** Please Review!


	12. The Proposal

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

"I'm so thankful that the two of you could make it over. I feel like it has been forever since we last talked." I said as I took my seat across from Phil. "Dinner will be a few more minutes. Dwayne made lamb for dinner."

Phil's eyes widened. "I don't think that I've ever had lamb before. What about you, Jeff?" He asked his husband. The rainbow haired man shook his head. "Well, there's a first time for everything."

I smiled confidently. "I'm sure that you'll love it. Dwayne is an excellent cook."

As if cued by the sound of his name, Dwayne came in with dinner. "I heard my name."

"Yeah. You did." I motioned to Phil and Jeff. "These are my friends from the duplex. The one on the left is Phil and the other is Jeff. I was just telling them about what an excellent chef you are."

Dwayne smiled as he wiped his hands on his apron and hung it on a hook outside of the kitchen. "Well, I'm honored. Phil and Jeff, was it? I'm Dwayne. It's very nice to meet you."

Phil and Jeff both shook his hand. "It's very nice to meet you, too. I do hope that you're taking excellent care of John here. We know that he can be a little bit of a handful."

Jeff smirked easily. "But he's also one of the best neighbors that we've ever had, so he's worth it. He's very kind and caring and he's the kind of man that would give you the shirt off of his back."

I blushed and looked down at the table. "_Guys_."

Phil looked at me innocently. "What? It's true."

A comfortable silence settled over us. Dwayne served a thick slice of the meat to each of us and the gravy boat floated around the table. True to my initial praise, Dwayne's meal was absolutely delicious. There wasn't even a small bite of it left by the end of the meal. Carefully, Dwayne balanced the dishes in his arms and carried them out to the kitchen, before he came back with dessert.

Did I mention that I found myself a man that could cook _and_ bake? And he excelled in both areas as well. He came back out of the kitchen with a triple layer cake, and each layer was a different shape and flavor. The bottom was a rectangle that was flavored Neapolitan with strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla batter, the respective flavor of icing divided into three sections, and half of a strawberry, scattered M&Ms, and crumbled pieces of white chocolate on top.

Then, there came the tiers. Regal looking tiers stood tall in the cakes to hold up the second and third levels. The second layer was a circular marble cake. It looked like he had also made a marble fluff icing to go on top. It had white, lacy trim around the edges and a sprig of peppermint leaves. It smelled absolutely delicious and I couldn't wait to eat it. But there was still one more level…

The last level was the smallest, but was not short in the flavor department. Not by far. The last cake was lemon flavored with vanilla pudding inside, but mixed into the vanilla pudding where sprinkles of every size, shape, and color. It had butter cream icing on top with two lemon slices arranged just so. One might question the stark differences in flavor, but to me, it was perfect.

"Shit. Johnny here wasn't lying when he said that you can bake." Phil looked at the cake like he wanted to devour it whole and I had no doubt that he could. "I don't know what I want to try first."

"Do you like strawberry?" Phil nodded excitedly. "Then, I would recommend that you try this." He cut a piece of strawberry off of the Neapolitan cake and handed it to Phil.

Phil took a bite and I worried that he would pass out. "This is absolutely fucking _delicious_. You're a master, man. Sorry, Jeff." Phil looked at his husband apologetically.

"I must know the secret of this cake that makes my husband actually _apologize_ for something. It's a miracle!"

Phil smacked his shoulder. "Shut up, dumbass!"

Jeff took a forkful of his cake and stuffed it into Phil's mouth. "I love you too, baby."

They were so cute. I think that I was in love with the love that they shared. One day, I hope to be able to say that I loved someone like that. The kind of love where I was so comfortable around them that I can truly be myself, leave nothing on the inside. They were so familiar with each other that it was extremely refreshing. We settled into an easy conversation as we ate our cake.

I will say that, in total honesty, every layer of the cake was delicious. Dwayne had really outdone himself this time. I had three different slices before I finally decided that I was full. Phil, Jeff, and I talked for a little while longer, but the children were starting to fuss. Sadly, it was time for them to head back home. I hugged both of my friends and escorted them out to their car. We decided that we would have to do this again soon.

I turned back to Dwayne with a smile on my face. "Thank you so much for letting me invite them over. They were so kind to me and I'm still kind of in awe about the fact that they even liked me at all and…"

Dwayne put a hand on my shoulder and I fell silent. "How could they not like you, baby? You're perfect in every way. You just have to let them have a chance to see that."

I nodded. Dwayne was also helping me to work on my confidence. "I need to be confident?"

"Be confident and you can't fail. And as for inviting them over, you can do it any time that you want. You always seem to eat more around them and we need to fill out that skeleton." Dwayne joked.

I laughed to. "I'll try to eat better."

Dwayne smiled and ruffled my hair softly. "Good."

* * *

I had my first encounter with the bitch, otherwise known as Cody Runnells, one week later. He was a cute little number, I could credit him that. However, once he opened his mouth, any illusion of a sweet, charming southern boy fell away. He was a royal asshole. He could cut you into little tiny pieces, all with the most loving smile on his face. And I didn't like the fact that Dwayne obviously still felt for him, even if it wasn't in a romantic sense.

Cody was out with his boyfriend, Ted DiBiase Jr. I wish it would have stayed that way, quite frankly. Ted used to be such a vibrant young man, full of life and with a passion for business, which he had quite the talent for. But that was not to be. In a few years, Cody and Ted would marry and they would have a little girl named Winter. She would be a cute little bundle with blonde curls and expressive, icy blue eyes. But she would turn out to be a little brat.

But back to our ill-fated encounter. We were at the mall buying a few new outfits for me from Dwayne's favorite store. That's where we ran into them. Cody broke away from Ted, who was a little hesitant to let Cody leave his side. After all, he knew how smitten the model had once been with Dwayne. But that was obviously ancient history with me around, and so he let his brunette lover have his fun as he continued to shop around. That was a mistake.

"Dwayne." Cody exclaimed. The smile on his face almost split his face in two. "It has had to have been six years since I've last seen you. I see you have a new boyfriend."

If there were more venom in his voice, I would be dead by now. "Yeah, it has been six years. I think that that is enough time to move on." Dwayne tried to shoo him off, but no such luck. "What do you want, Cody?"

"I'm hurt, Dwayne. I just want to talk to you and catch up. We _were_ married once, you know." Cody said sharply.

"Yes, I know." Dwayne affirmed. He also seemed a bit pissed off. "And now we're divorced. It's better that way."

Cody rolled his eyes. "Now, now… would Summer really approve of the way that you're talking to me?"

Dwayne's eyes flashed dangerously and for a minute, I worried that he would hit Cody. Not that I would have been against that… but I didn't want him to be thrown in jail. "Don't you _ever_ talk about my baby girl!"

Cody was about to make some smart-assed comment, most likely pointing out the fact that Summer was also his daughter, but when he saw Dwayne's eyes flash like that, he thought better of it and made his way over to Ted as fast as he could. Really, I didn't blame him. Dwayne was a little scary right now. But I shook it off, knowing full-well that Dwayne would never intentionally hurt me. I snaked my hand in his and offered him a reassuring smile.

* * *

"How would you feel about having children, Candy-Ass?" Dwayne asked on a Saturday afternoon. AJ had given me the afternoon off, so I was at home with Dwayne. It was just a lazy afternoon.

"Guess I never really thought about having kids before. I've just been waiting for the right man, I guess." I offered nonchalantly. "I mean, the trait for male pregnancy is in my bloodline. My… uncle had it, I think."

Dwayne chuckled and ruffled my hair. "Don't get all worked up over it, okay? It was just an innocent comment. If and when you're ready, then we'll talk about kids and the future. But only when you're ready."

We should have known that life never waits for you to be ready. The birth of our first child was already on the horizon, just eight short months away. But I didn't know that at the time. So I happily dwelled in the fact that I had finally found a man who was willing to wait for me, to wait for me to be ready. Maybe what my father had told me was a lie. Maybe fairytales actually _do_ exist, and I'm living one…

Just for fun, we tossed around possible names for our baby. We decided that, if it were to be a little girl, we would name her Augustine. And if it were to be a little boy, we would name him Liam Alexander. I'm not really sure where the name came from… but I liked it. Dwayne patted me on the head and left to go make dinner. In that moment, I decided that if I _were_ to ever have a child, it would be Dwayne's.

* * *

But it wasn't until my twenty-second birthday that all of my dreams finally became a reality. I came home from work beyond exhausted, with a layer of sweat and other unidentifiable substances stuck to my skin. All in all, I felt filthy and unattractive. And when I arrived home, I was concerned when I found an envelope attached to the door. It struck me as a little odd that my name was written on the outside in large, dark letters as well. Inside was a letter.

_Dear Candy-Ass,_

_I want you to come inside and take a nice, hot shower. I ran out to the store today and bought that body soap that you always say that you love so much. And once you're all clean, I want you to take that hot little body and walk into the bedroom. There will be a surprise for you there. Once you find it, another letter with instructions will be underneath. Good luck and don't have too much fun without me._

_Dwayne_

I couldn't help but smile. I found it extremely sweet that he would go to such measures to make me happy. Following the instructions to the letter, I walked upstairs to our bedroom and shed my dirty work clothes. Setting the letter on the dresser by the television, I entered the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I turned the water on hot and waited for it to warm before I fixed the temperature a bit. Once it was perfect, I slid inside.

Somehow, the importance of a nice, hot shower is lost in the words used to describe it. You don't really understand how much it rejuvenates you until you have been on your feet for several hours and smell like you were six feet under. I scrubbed all of the dirt and filth off of my skin, careful not to scrub so hard that it bled. When I was satisfied with the way that I looked, I shut off the water and reached for the nearest towel. It was Dwayne's.

The next surprise happened to be a pair of dark jeans and a neatly pressed white and black stripped button-down. I slid on a pair of boxers, before I dressed myself in the clothes that were laid out for me. And then, I looked around for the note that he said would be here. True to his word, there was a note a few feet away at the head of the bed. Over it was a blood red rose that looked freshly picked from the rose bushes outside.

_Dear Candy-Ass,_

_So I see that you have successfully completed phase one of my plan. I hope that you like the rose that I picked for you this morning. It's just a little something to say 'I love you' and 'Happy Birthday'. Now, your next mission, should you chose to accept it, is to go upstairs into the library and find my favorite book. Inside is your birthday present. Once you find it, your next clue will be beneath the picture window._

_Dwayne_

What could he have gotten me for my birthday? Despite my confusion, I followed the command and went upstairs to the library. The chandelier in the ceiling was lit, causing shadows of all different shapes and sizes to float across the walls. I smiled. The library had come to be like a second home to me. I knew that his favorite book was on the shelf furthest from the picture window and I was quickly able to locate it.

Inside of the book was an auction ticket. Confused, I pulled it out and looked it over. But the answer came when I looked underneath it. This wasn't his favorite book. He must've taken the jacket off of that book and put it on this one. This was a book about vintage mustangs. And then, it clicked. Dwayne had bought me a vintage mustang from an auction. He knew how much I liked to fix-up old cars. How sweet! The next letter read:

_Dear Candy-Ass,_

_Do you like your gift? I kind of thought that you would. It will arrive in a few days, and then you can work on it to your heart's content. But now, you have one more letter to find. Go to the place where we first exchanged 'I love yous', and yes, I do remember where it was. How could I ever forget? There you will find the last letter. And you will also find the key to my heart._

_Dwayne_

What could be left for me to find? I didn't know, but I couldn't wait to find out. I raced downstairs and into the kitchen, which was where we had first exchanged 'I love yous'. It just shows that romantic encounters can occur anywhere. Dwayne had accidentally smacked me in the head with one of the doors to the cabinets and had drawn blood. I had thought it was funny (but, as it turned out, I also had a concussion), but he had been so upset…

Sure enough, on the same cabinet that he had used to bash me over the head, there was another note. I opened it up and, instead of finding a note, I found the key. Was this the key to his heart? I took it out and saw an arrow that pointed to a box on the counter. It had a keyhole that looked like it was supposed to fit the key that I had. I slid it in and the lid popped up. Slowly, a classical love ballad started to play.

I opened the lid of the box all of the way and saw and little compartment rise up. It was a box inside of a box. Only Dwayne could come up with this stuff, I'm telling you. I took the smaller box out and inside was the most beautiful diamond ring that I had ever seen. It was a diamond eternity band with a larger solitaire in the middle. Absolutely beautiful… there was no other word to describe it.

"So, I see that you found the key to my heart." I almost jumped out of my skin. Dwayne stood behind me, dressed in a fine-tailored suit. He had a 100-watt smile on his face.

"Does this mean what I think it does?" I asked, my eyes watering. All of this seemed too good to be true.

Dwayne took my hands in his and slowly fell down on one knee. "John Cena, I love you. You are my world, my life… quite simply put, my everything. I can't imagine a world without you in it. And so, would you -,"

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes!" I screamed, but instantly felt sorry that I had cut him off. "I'm sorry that I cut you off, Dwayne. I'm just _so_ excited!"

Dwayne just laughed and slid the ring onto my hand. He rose to his feet and took me into his arms. "It's okay, baby. Your enthusiasm is contagious."

That night, we made love all night long…


	13. The Wedding, The Honeymoon

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

Dwayne and I were married in June of that same year. It may seem like we were on the fast track with our lives, but I liked it better that way. I wanted to be able to live my life full throttle, with no time to look back and think of what could have been. I didn't want to have time to think about yesterday. And so, only a few months later, the day that I had dreamed of since that fateful day when my mother died had finally come.

I was dressed in a finely tailored white suit. I found it more than a little odd that it was a bit too tight in the middle, but I didn't comment on it. Today was a special day. I wasn't about to transform into a Bridezilla and throw a fit just because my button-down was a little tight in the middle. Nobody deserved that. Steph fussed over me as she buttoned my suit and fixed my tie so that it lay correctly on my chest. All the while, she had a little smile on her face.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Johnny. Beautiful." She wiped a tear from her eye as she turned me around to admire my reflection in the mirror. "Now, I want you to tell me the truth. Does Dwayne make you happy?"

I nodded, totally confident in my answer. "Yes, Steph. He makes me as happy as Hunter makes you. I _know_ that he was the one that I was meant to be with. We're perfect for each other."

Steph toyed with my hair mindlessly. "I know that you love him, sweetheart, but sometimes love can make you blind to flaws you would otherwise find rather… unattractive." She warned. "I don't want you to be hurt."

"He would never hurt me. He takes such wonderful care of me… you wouldn't believe it." I assured her confidently.

"If that's how you feel, then I believe you. I trust your judgment, John." Steph said assuredly.

Steph continued to fuss with my hair. "I don't know why you're having so much trouble with my hair, Steph. I mean, there isn't that much to mess with."

"I just want you to look perfect, Johnny." Steph said.

"I thought you already said that I looked beautiful?" I asked with a sly smirk.

Steph shook her head as she smacked me on the shoulder, amused. When she was finally done making the last little arrangements with my suit, it was time for the ceremony to start. Steph led me out to the church, which was when the first wave of nausea hit me. I had had frequent bouts of nausea for several weeks now and on certain occasions, I would even become ill. But I had never told Dwayne because I didn't want to worry him.

The actual ceremony was a blur. I don't remember a minute of it, other than the kiss. Dwayne leaned forward and kissed me, and it might have been my own personal fireworks, or the loud eruption of applause from the guests, but it was magical. It truly was that fairytale moment that I had craved my entire life. When he kissed me, I saw stars. And I realized that _this_, this was what love should feel like.

Dwayne and I made our way downstairs for the reception, but when we arrived, the scent of food hit me in the stomach like a ton of bricks. All of a sudden, the wave of nausea came back, except for the fact that it was stronger this time. I carefully unwrapped Dwayne's arm from around my waist and excused myself, before I rushed off to the bathroom. I didn't know that Dwayne had followed me because he was worried.

He followed me into the stall and rubbed my back as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl. "Johnny, baby, what's the matter? Are you sick? Do you need to lie down?"

Once I was finished, I wiped my mouth with some toilet paper. I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm just a little nauseous, that's all. Don't worry about it."

But Dwayne wasn't convinced. "You're more than a little nauseous if you had to run out of the reception to throw up, baby. Please, don't lie to me. Tell me what the matter is."

I sighed. "I am a little sick. But don't worry about it. I'm fine."

When Dwayne realized that I wouldn't back down from my stance, he shook his head and helped me to my feet. "At least… do you feel better now? Let's rinse your mouth out."

Dwayne led me over to the sink and took one of the paper cups and filled it with water, before he handed it to me. I rinsed my mouth out and spit it into the sink. Now that I had vomited, I do admit that the nausea had subsided considerably. Dwayne leaned over and kissed my forehead; before he took my hand and led me back out to the reception. We were met with broad smiles and loud music.

Steph made her way over to me as Dwayne broke away, a look of concern on her face. "Are you okay, Johnny? I saw you run off after the service and I was worried about you."

"I'm fine. I'm just a little sick to my stomach." I assured her. "You don't have to be worried about me. Just have fun, okay? I'll try my best to do the same."

"If you're sure…" Steph trailed off, still worried about me.

"I'm sure." I said confidently.

I danced with Dwayne and with several of my other friends. Dwayne had invited Cody and the model had shown for the ceremony and made a short appearance at the reception, but once he made his presence known, he vanished shortly thereafter. He didn't make _too_ much of a scene, which I was thankful for. All in all, it was a day that I was proud of. And it was a day that I would remember forever. It was the last day where life was perfect.

* * *

One week later, while we were still on our honeymoon, the vomiting and nausea became considerably worse. Dwayne didn't believe me what I assured him that I was okay and he dragged me to the doctor's office. The doctor said that he would run some tests on me and we should come back the next day for the results. So that's how we arrived at the doctor's office in Hawaii. I was on the bed and Dwayne stood beside me, holding my hand.

"Mr. Johnson, tell me how long you have been feeling nauseous." The doctor said. She was a kind, older woman who held his medical chart in her crossed hands.

I looked down at my hands, almost afraid to answer. I hadn't been totally honest with Dwayne about this. "C'mon, baby. The doctor wants to help you. You can trust her." Dwayne assured me.

"I've been nauseous for about three and a half months. However, I've been getting sick for about two months." I answered shyly, afraid of the backlash that the answer would receive.

"John? Why didn't you tell me about this?" Dwayne asked, confused and hurt.

"I didn't want you to have to worry about me." I mumbled sadly.

Dwayne tilted my head so that I could look him in the eye. "You're my baby, John. I'll _always_ worry about you."

The doctor smiled at us kindly. "We have your test results back. I am very happy to tell you that you are pregnant, Mr. Johnson. You're five months pregnant and, if you want, we can identify the gender of the baby."

I think that I may have blacked out for a minute. Pregnant? _Pregnant?_ It all seemed like it had happened so fast. We've been married for one week and now, in less than four months, we'll have a baby? Dwayne kissed my forehead and rubbed my shoulder harshly. It was comforting, but at the same time, it forced me to come back to reality. It was just so much to take in at once. I worried that I would have another dizzy spell.

Dwayne took the initiative and claimed the little bit of bed that was still available next to me. He whispered words of comfort into my ear and slowly rocked me back and forth. I was scared but, at the same time, I was extremely excited. I couldn't wait to be a father, or a mother, whatever it would be called. I wanted my child to have the life that I never had a chance to have. But maybe, this story would be different if Liam was never born…

Not that I would trade the years that I spent with my three children and my husband for _anything_. That's not what I meant. What I _meant_ was that I would want to save them the pain. If never meeting Dwayne meant that he would still be alive today, then I would gladly go back in time and save them from that fate. I still blame myself for their deaths, and no matter what my counselor says, I will _always_ blame myself.

"Yes." Dwayne answered for me when I realized that I was so terribly lost in my own thoughts to answer the doctor's question. "Yes, we would like to know the gender of the baby."

The doctor took out the first picture of the baby and showed it to us. "It's a little boy. Congrats. You should make an appointment with your doctor at home for every two weeks to check in on the baby."

I snapped out of it when I heard her say that. I nodded meekly. "Okay. Thank you so much for your time."

"Not a problem, Mr. Johnson. Take care of yourself, okay?" She smiled, before she walked out.

The doctor walked off and left us on our own. Dwayne cupped my chin in his hand and turned my face so that we were looking each other in the eye. He leaned down and kissed me. A warm, comforting feeling washed over me. And in that moment, I knew that he wasn't mad at me… even if he most likely should be. Dwayne drew back and ruffled my hair softly, before he put a hand on my stomach.

"Our little boy is in here. You know that he'll be a handsome little man… 'cause he'll look like you." Dwayne said with a smile. I flushed and looked away.

"No, he'd be handsome because he looked like you." I denied. I rubbed my stomach and wondered what Liam would look like. "Do you think that he'll like me?"

Dwayne's eyes widened with confusion. "Why wouldn't he? What's not to like?"

I shook my head, a little saddened by it all. "I'm not very good with children. I told you before that my father and brothers were abusive, and while I would never_ dream_ of doing that to a child, I wouldn't even know…"

"Don't you dare think like that." Dwayne ordered me firmly. He put his hands on the sides of my face and looked me in the eyes with such conviction and it made my blood run cold. "You are not your father or your brothers."

"But…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say to that.

"John Felix Anthony Johnson." I flinched when he referred to me by my full name. It made me feel like I was in trouble. "Trust me when I say that you'll make a wonderful mother to Liam. You'll be fantastic."

"How do you know?" I asked skeptically. I didn't mean to be so pessimistic, I just was.

"Because I know you, Johnny. I know you and I love you." Dwayne said. "And you'll love and support this baby."

"I already love him." I couldn't wait for my baby to be born…


	14. The Letter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

My son, Liam Alexander Johnson, was born on June 23 at 5:30 AM.

He was absolutely beautiful. The nurse carried him over to me, already swaddled in his little blue baby blanket and dressed in a white onesie and a little blue hat to show that he was a boy. He was wide awake, but totally silent. His wide, dark brown eyes flickered around the room as he took in Dwayne, myself, and the staff at the hospital with awe. We must've looked kind of funny to a little boy who'd never seen a human before.

"Do you want to feed him for the first time?" The little blond-haired nurse asked sweetly. She carried a baby bottle in her hand with an off-white colored formula in it.

I watched as Liam eyed the bottle hungrily. "Yeah. I would like that." I nodded and thanked her when she handed over the bottle and told me how to hold it.

I touched the nipple of the bottle to his little mouth and he opened up almost immediately. He drank about two ounces before he released the bottle and wouldn't take anymore. The nurse explained that it was now time to burp him, so she handed me an unused towel and said to tap his back carefully, but firmly, until all of the gas bubbles were out of his chest and his tummy. I put the towel over my shoulder and started to tap his back.

Liam spit up a little bit, but that was all. The nurse took the towel off of our hands and told us that she would be back in about fifteen to twenty minutes to take Liam to the baby nursery so that I could rest up. I thanked her, before I shifted Liam in my arms so that his little face was toward Dwayne. Liam yawned and I took the binky that the hospital had supplied and stuck it in his little mouth. He looked surprised, but he didn't fuss about it.

I turned to Dwayne, who had a proud smile on his face. Liam was a happy, healthy little baby. That was all that we cared about. "Do you want to hold him, Dwayne?"

"Can I?" Dwayne asked. He almost sounded shocked. I think that he was still in shock about the fact that he had a second chance at fatherhood, especially after what had happened to Summer.

"Why wouldn't you be able to hold him? He's your son." I said with just the smallest hint of sarcasm. "He's just so beautiful and I want you to be able to see him."

Dwayne took the baby out of my arms. "He is beautiful, isn't he? He has your hair."

"He has your eyes." I countered.

"Hello, Liam." Dwayne cooed softly. He brushed the baby blanket away from his face and watched as Liam's eyes slowly fell closed. "We've waited a long time for you to arrive. We're so happy that you're here."

Liam suckled his binky loudly. "Just think. In a few days, we'll be back at home and he'll be in his new nursery. It'll be perfect." I said softly.

"No." Dwayne shook his head. "It already is."

The nurse came back with the baby cart for Liam, his name printed neatly on the side. Hesitantly, Dwayne handed Liam over to the little blond nurse and watched as she put him onto the baby cart. She wheeled him out of the room and left us alone. For the first time, I was hit with the full force of my exhaustion. I fell back on the pillows and watched as Dwayne pulled a chair over and took a seat beside me.

"How do you feel, baby? Are you tired?" Dwayne asked as he brushed the back of his hand over my sweat-dampened forehead. I smiled at the affectionate touch.

"Yeah. I'm exhausted, actually." I turned my head to the side and smiled at him. "But I'm thankful too. I know have a beautiful little boy. It was well worth it."

"I'm very proud of you, baby. Our son is beautiful." Dwayne said sweetly.

Dwayne continued to brush the hair out of my face. "I'm kinda tired. Can I sleep now?"

"Yeah, baby." Dwayne leaned down and kissed my forehead. "You can sleep now."

* * *

It was two weeks later that I had to make a trip to Wal-Mart. It was also my first time with the stroller, so I was in for quite a treat. Dwayne had been out with it before and he had even showed me how to use it. It had worked when I did it in front of him, but I wasn't too sure if it would work now that there was a half a mile between us. I parked the Mustang (it had taken me almost two months, but I had finally fixed it up) and stuffed the keys in my pocket.

I walked around to the side of the car and took Liam out of his car seat. Even at two weeks old, Liam was heavier than he was even one week earlier. I shuffled him around in one arm while I kicked at the stroller, trying to open it with one hand. Finally, with a loud _snap_ the stroller opened. I put Liam into the little blue seat with lots of sparkly stars and buckled him in. He cooed and reached out for me, and I put the binky in his mouth.

We walked into the store and started to look for the baby formula. Not only had we burned through our supply of baby formula in the two weeks since Liam had come home from the hospital, but we had also run out of diapers and also needed some new clothes. Dwayne had to work, but I was still on leave from my job at the Snack Bar and at the Bar, so I told him that I would do the shopping. Now, I realized that that may have been a mistake.

"Excuse me." I walked over to one of the employees, who looked a little startled that I had actually called her out. She pointed to herself, and when I nodded, she pulled her earphones out. "I need some help."

"You couldn't have asked someone else?" She asked nastily. I rolled my eyes. Whatever happened to customer service? Finally, when she realized that I wouldn't back down, she sighed. "What do you want?"

"I need to know where the baby aisle is." I said calmly. I really didn't want to have to deal with her.

"It's aisle four." The teen said matter-of-factly. "Next time, read the signs."

I rolled my eyes, but her words had achieved the desired effect. They bit viciously. "Thank you."

I bought two boxes of Pampers, some talcum powder, a box of formula, and some new bottles that I just couldn't let pass by. The bottles had Thomas the Train Engine on them. It all amounted to about seventy-five dollars and I put it on my credit card. I loaded all of the stuff into the bottom of the stroller and rolled Liam out to the car, where we loaded up the Mustang and I strapped Liam into his car seat.

"You ready to drive over to the school and pick up Daddy, baby? And then, we're gonna head back home and pack." I tickled Liam's little feet. "Gonna go see Grandma. How does that sound, baby?"

Liam cooed and kicked his little feet as I checked to make sure that he was secure.

I ruffled Liam's short brown hair. "You're such a handsome little man. Yes, you are. You are. And you know what? You're Grandma is so excited to meet you. She loves you so much already."

Liam smiled and smacked his wet little lips together. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, before I went around to the front seat and slid into the car.

"You ready to hit the road, baby?" I asked.

Liam only continued to smile.

I started the car and was about to pull out and start the fifteen minute drive down to the school, but stopped short when I noticed a note on the dashboard. Confused, I pulled on it and tore the blue painter's tape off of the dashboard. The note was written in a sloppy hand that was uncomfortably familiar. It was my oldest brother, Mark's, handwriting. I looked it over once and felt my blood run cold. But it took once more for the words to really settle in.

**_We're not finished with you yet. You are ours and no-one, not even your precious Dwayne, can save you from us. Not even your little boy is safe, John. We're always around._**

I felt an extreme wave of nausea wash over me. I crumpled the note into a ball and looked around, anxious to see if there was anyone in the near vicinity that seemed to have malicious intent. When I didn't find anyone, the nausea didn't go away. Worried about the safety of Liam more than my own safety, I started to car and sped out of the driveway. I cut off several other drivers, but I didn't really care. I just needed to put that note into the back of my mind.

You know that moment in the horror movie where the dumb girl lets the murderer into the house, finds out he has a machete with him, runs _upstairs_ and locks herself in the bathroom that has no windows and no chance of escape unless she somehow manages to put herself down the drain? Yeah. That's what I felt like now. There was no possible chance of escape. I was totally alone in this.

* * *

"What's the matter, Johnny baby? You look kind of sad." Dwayne pointed out. We were both in the king-sized bed in his mother's guest bedroom. He stroked my stomach softly.

"Heh! That's not fair, Dwayne. You know that that…" before I could even finish, Dwayne's hand snaked down and touched my hard-on. "The doctor said that we couldn't have sex for six weeks. You know that."

"He said that we couldn't do penetration. That doesn't mean that I can't blow you." Dwayne said.

I rolled my eyes. "Liam is just in the next room. What if we wake him?"

Dwayne shook his head. "He'd be right next door back at our room too. Would you seriously worry about it that much that you would never have sex with me again?"

"No." I said with a sly smile. "Just after Liam goes to the college."

Dwayne shook his head again. "Please, just let me do this for you? You deserve it after the stressful day you've had."

Briefly, I was reminded of the letter, but then I shook it off. "Okay. You can blow me just this once. But after this time, no touching until the six weeks are up."

Dwayne smiled evilly and I could tell he had no intention of keeping his promise. "Of course."

Dwayne pulled my pants down so that they rested on my hips and took my erection in his hand, slowly pumping it to full hardness. And then, he leaned down and took the fullness into his mouth. He suckled harshly and hollowed his cheeks so that it created more friction onto the hot erection. He moved harshly, trying to create as much pleasure as he could, all the while making sure to be careful of my still-stitched stomach.

I wasn't ashamed of the fact that I came rather quickly. We hadn't touched in over a month and I was kind of deprived. I offered to jerk him off as well, but he shook it off. He was just thankful that I felt better. I never told him about the note, but maybe I should have. Maybe if I had told him about the note, then we would have moved from Cameron and this fairytale would have a different ending.


	15. Another Letter

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

"Ma, I would like for you to meet John. John, this is my Ma." We had talked over the phone before, but this is the first time that I had seen her face-to-face. "And this is Liam Alexander, our son."

Mrs. Johnson smiled at me. "Hello, John. I'm very thankful that my son was able to find someone that he loves so much to spend the rest of his life with. And Liam… isn't he so adorable? He looks just like you!"

"Thank you. Would you like to hold him?" I offered as I shifted the little man around so that he faced Mrs. Johnson.

"May I?" She asked excitedly. She seemed shocked that I would even offer.

"Of course." Carefully, I handed Liam over to his Grandmother and watched as she shifted him around so that his head was in the crook of her arm. "He likes to be held like that."

"I can tell. His eyes are fluttering and he's falling asleep." I handed her the binky and she put it into his mouth. "He's such a well-behaved baby. You really lucked out, John."

"He's a dream. After the first two weeks, I even had time to take a nap." I said proudly.

"You seem like a natural with him. Are you sure that you were an only child?" Mrs. Johnson asked with a sly smirk.

Dwayne knew that I was still uncomfortable with my family history, so we had decided to tell his mother that I was an only child. We had also told her that my mother had died when I was little and I was raised in foster care. Maybe we would tell her more in the future, I didn't know. But as she rocked Liam back and forth, I had an inclination that she wouldn't care who had raised me, only that I was a positive influence on her only son.

We made our way over to the table and sat down. Mrs. Johnson put Liam into his carrier on the high chair and went over to warm a bottle. She tested the temperature on her wrist. When she was sure that it was warm, but not so hot that it would burn his little mouth, she sat down in the seat beside him and put it in his mouth. He drank loudly and messily. A little bit of formula dribbled down his chin.

Dwayne retrieved the dinner and brought it out to the table. He set the dinner platters in the middle of the table and ushered for me to take a seat. I have to say that, in all honesty, the food smelled absolutely delicious. I could definitely see where Dwayne's talent in the kitchen came, but also his dedication to family. Mrs. Johnson said a few words before we started to eat. My initial inclination was correct. The food was delectable.

"The food is absolutely delicious, Mrs. Johnson. Now I know that Dwayne got all of his talent from you, as well as his looks." I smiled as she chuckled, but her cheeks did flush from the compliment.

"Oh, thank you dear. It means a lot to hear that from someone who isn't biologically related to me, after all." Mrs. Johnson leveled her son with a stare. "Dwayne is quite the cook, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. But he's never made this before. If you don't mind my asking, what is it?" I asked kindly.

Mrs. Johnson brushed it off. "It's fine, dear. They're stuffed peppers. I'm surprised Dwayne's never made them."

"That's because Ma is terrified to part with her secret recipe, even to share it with her own son." Dwayne said.

Mrs. Johnson waved him off. "Don't worry about him, Johnny. Come back some time and visit and we'll spend the day in the kitchen. We can invite the whole family and make it a family dinner."

"You… you would really do that? And you want me to meet the rest of the family?" I must've sounded surprised, because Mrs. Johnson offered me a kind smile.

"Of course I do, baby. You're family." Mrs. Johnson assured me.

Family. That was one word that I never thought that I would hear again. It meant something entirely different when the word came from her mouth, however. Before, family meant that I was attached by blood to my tormentors. I would have to live with them forever because there was no escape from those with whom you had blood ties. But now, I'm not attached to the Johnsons by blood. They wanted and accepted me because Dwayne loved me.

But I hadn't totally escaped from that past. I should've known better. I should've told someone, anyone, about that letter that I had found in my car. But would that really have made a difference? What could be done to stop the forces of four bigger, stronger men with guns and connections the size of Boston plus a few other major cities? I wasn't trying to run from my father. I was trying to run from the mob.

When we finished eating, I rose first and started to collect the dishes. "What are you doing? You don't have to do that. You are a guest in my house. I should take care of you."

But I shook my head. "No. We're all family. Let me take care of you just this once." I said easily. "Does Liam need a new diaper? I can bring one back with me."

Mrs. Johnson picked him up out of the chair and smelled him, before she nodded. "Yeah, his diaper is soiled. Bring a new one down and some talcum powder. I'll change him in the nursery."

"You don't have to do that…" I trailed. I didn't want to overwork the kind woman.

"You're doing the dishes. This is the least that I can do in return." She said.

* * *

We stayed with Mrs. Johnson for a week and a half. The only reason that we were forced to leave was that the vacation days that Dwayne had taken had almost run out and I was expected to head back to work at the end of the second week. Some tears were shed in the goodbyes, but we promised her that we would come to visit as often as we could. She wouldn't miss out on Liam's life.

When we arrived back home, Dwayne went outside to tend to the rose bushes and I went into the kitchen to call Steph. Liam sat in his little baby swing. Let me tell you now, whoever created that thing is a _genius_. You rock it once and the baby is almost instantly asleep. Once I was sure that he was out, I took the phone off of the cradle and dialed Steph's number. It only took two rings for her to answer it.

_"Hello? Johnny, is that you?"_ She sounded tired, but she also had a newborn. Steph and Hunter had welcomed a baby girl about two weeks before Liam was born.

"Yeah, it's me. I just wanted to call and check in. I feel like we haven't talked in forever." I told her. "How is life with the new baby?" I asked.

_"Oh, Aurora? She's a dream. Such a Daddy's Girl. He's bought her a ton of new dresses. Her closet is so full I'm not even sure she'll have a chance to wear all of them before she grows out of them." _Steph joked.

"That's nice." I smiled. Steph was happy, so I was happy.

_"How is Liam?"_ She asked. _"I love that picture that you sent me. He's such a cutie pie!"_

Since Steph couldn't be there to see him after he was born, I sent her a picture instead. "He's fine. He's in his baby swing now. We just got back from his Grandma's, so he's exhausted."

_"That's understandable. It's such a long trek for such a little man."_ Steph said.

"But he's a happy little man. She took him to the story and bought him some toys. He's got a new keychain from Fisher Price that has drool all over it." That would be a joy to clean.

_"Yes, the teething toys. Don't worry about it just yet. You still have a few months."_ Steph explained. _"But once those teeth come in, he'll bite anything and everything."_

"I think that we're prepared for the worst. The house is totally baby-proof. _I_ can't even figure out how to work some of the stuff that Dwayne has put up!" It sounded like a joke, but I was totally serious.

There was a loud crash in the background. _"Shit. I'm sorry, but I'll have to cut this short, John. It looks like Michelle has pitched another bitch fit. You understand."_

I rolled my eyes at the memory. "Yeah. Good luck with that. I'll talk to you soon. Bye-bye."

_"Bye."_ Steph said before she ended the call.

I put the phone back on the cradle and walked over to the counter, where Liam's bottle warmer was. I mixed him some formula and put it on the bottle warmer, before I set the timer. That's when I noticed something odd. One of the windows was open, the one over the sink. Dwayne was so anal about intruders; he would have never left a window open if it meant that himself or someone that he cared about could be hurt.

Slowly, I turned around to check on Liam. He was still knocked out cold, the swing leisurely swaying back and forth. So I went to the kitchen door, which lead out onto the back patio and the backyard, and unlocked it. I walked outside and saw another note that had been left on the fancy glass table that Dwayne had bought while he was still married to Cody. This time, it had been written by Glen.

**_You're pathetic, John. We always knew that you were foolish, but to leave a window open while you travel to the other side of North Carolina for two weeks? That's just idiotic. Remember, John. We're everywhere. There's nowhere that you can hide. There's nowhere that you will be safe._**

A bolt of fear chased down my spine, followed by anger and frustration. How dare they have the audacity to threaten me and my family in my own home? This… this had crossed the line. I crumpled the note into a ball and stuffed it into my pocket in my frustration. But the fear was still there. The fear would _always_ be there. I hated that they had this power over me, to make me feel weak and vulnerable when I was a twenty-two year old man.

Still, the fear tactic won out. If it was just me, on my own, then I wouldn't have caved so easily. But I had a husband and a little boy to worry about. I couldn't lose them just because of my own selfish pride. So I asked Dwayne to call the company to install a security system into the house. He was a little confused, but I told him that I just couldn't take the chance. Not with so much at stake. When I mentioned Liam, he immediately agreed.

* * *

I went back to work at the end of the week. Liam would have to spend a few hours in daycare. And that meant another confrontation with none other than Barbie Blanc. I steeled myself and walked into the daycare room. Barbie stood behind the front desk, typing some information into the computer. I rolled the stroller over to the desk and waited for her to turn her attention to me.

"Hello, how can I be of assistance… oh, hello John. Long time no see. I see that you're not here with Cedric and Celine today." Leave it to Barbie to point out the obvious.

"Yeah. I'm actually here with my son. His name is Liam and I just need you to watch him until my shift is over." I tried to cut her off, but she continued to talk. "Listen, my shift starts in ten minutes and if I'm late…"

"So, you said that his name is Liam. What is the name of his other parent so that we have an emergency contact?" Barbie asked. I rolled my eyes. She already knew his name.

"His name is Dwayne Johnson. He works at the local school. He wouldn't be available to call if there was an emergency." I said, frustrated. "If you have a problem, come find me."

"Just a few more questions." Barbie said. "What was Liam's date of birth?"

"6/23/93. Anything else that you need to know?" I asked.

Barbie could see how annoyed I was. "Nope. That will be all."

Barbie took the stroller and rolled it off into the back room. I walked off and went over to the Snack Bar, and there was already someone sitting there. That in itself was unusual, because I was expected to report there fifteen minutes before the gym opened its doors. I walked over and went behind the counter, and when I saw the man's face, that same bolt of fear chased down my spine.

"Listen, John. We need to talk."


	16. The Fight

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

"Wait a minute. First of all, who are you? And second, can you make this fast? My shift starts in a few minutes and I can't afford to be late on my first day back." I said slowly. I really didn't know who this man was.

"You can't spare a few minutes, even if it has to do with your precious son?" The man asked. I scowled at him. What did he know about Liam? "That's what I thought. I have information that you need to know. It's about your father."

If possible, the mention of my father only upset me more. "I left that old bastard behind when I left West Newbury. This is my new life. He can't touch me here. He can't take this away from me."

"Sadly, you're mistaken. He's tracked your every move. He knows exactly where you've been." The man said.

"So he knows that I'm married and have a son now? Is that why he's been sending all of these threatening letters?" I asked, astonished at my father's cruelty. "But then, I shouldn't be surprised. He's always been a bastard."

"I would be careful about the way that you talk about the old man." He said. "He has eyes and ears everywhere."

But I refused to let my father, or this man, control me with fear. "I'm not afraid of him anymore."

"You should be." The man blurted out.

My entire life, my father used fear to control me. I was always under his thumb, under his control. There was no chance for me to be the sweet, innocent boy that my mother wanted me to be. I'll admit that I was broken. I'll admit that I was abused. But Dwayne was there to help me move beyond that. That life was a distant memory now and I'd be damned if I let my father waltz in and take it from me like he took my childhood.

I took a wet washcloth and started to scrub at invisible dirt on the counter in frustration. What was I supposed to do? It seemed like, in this situation, every decision that I _could_ make had some kind of negative consequence. I just didn't want anyone to be disappointed or even hurt because of my foolishness. There had to be some easy solution. There had to be some answer that didn't come to mind. But the harder I tried, the more that answer evaded me.

Deep down inside, and I mean _way_ deep down, I knew that I could always tell Dwayne. Dwayne was the only person in the world (besides Steph) who I felt that I could fully confide in without the fear of being judged. He would understand my fears about the threatening letters and we would move far, far away from Cameron. But what the man had said was right. I could move as far away from West Newbury as I wanted to. They would always find me.

"I don't want my son in the middle of this. My father has a problem with me, fine. He takes it up with me. My son has done nothing wrong." I insisted firmly. If he so much as _looked_ at my son, I would kill him.

"You know that that has never been your father's style. He likes to involve the family. It makes it hurt more." He said.

"Hasn't he done enough to hurt me?" I asked frantically.

"Your father doesn't understand why you didn't accept the business like your four older brothers. And, to make it worse, you're now married to a man. It's a blemish to him. He has to erase it." The man explained.

"You mean he wants to kill me?" Confused, and a little more than scared, I slowly asked this question.

"In his exact words?" I nodded hesitantly. "He'll take out your children first and make your husband watch, unable to defend them. And then he'll kill your husband. He won't kill you. He'll let you live with the grief forever."

I almost choked on the air. "How could he be so cruel?" I asked, this time out loud.

"He's your father. Why don't you tell me." Was all that the man had to offer.

The man rose off of the bar stool and took his leave. I didn't even have a word to say to what he had told me. My father was a cold, calculated killer. He could and would finish what he started, with absolutely no regard for the lives that were lost along the way. I had been forced to learn that the hard way. It wasn't fair, I'll admit to that. But then, whoever said that life was fair? You have to deal with the hand that you're dealt.

Nick and Jake finally arrived ten minutes after the gym was set to open, not that anyone really came to the gym this early anyway. Jake was extremely energetic as usual, while Nick had a smug look on his face as he silently thought of all of the ways that he was better than everyone else in the room. I rolled my eyes and watched silently as Jake walked over to the Snack Bar and smacked his hand down on the counter loudly.

"Are you all ready for another fantastic day at work? The sun is out, is hotter that hell, and we're gonna make a fortune at the Snack Bar today! Life is good." Jake said to nobody in particular.

"Are you okay, John? You look a little pale." Nick said. He didn't really sound concerned. And if he was, it was only because he didn't want to deal with a lawsuit from one of his employees being 'overworked'.

"No, I'm fine." I tried to shake off whatever 'look' was on my face. "I didn't sleep well last night. That's all."

"Oh. Okay, then. Just don't let it affect your work." Nick warned. And just like that, both men vanished.

* * *

To make matters even more complicated, I started my first year of college that September. We couldn't afford much, but my education was one of the necessities that we worked hard for. If I was able to earn my medical degree, than Dwayne could cut back on the hours that he had to tutor and we would be able to spend more time as a family. That, of course, was the ideal situation. Life doesn't exactly happen like that.

Around Christmas of that year, when Dwayne and I were on winter break, Dwayne's mother fell ill. The doctor said that it was cancer and she had a malignant tumor in her brain that was inoperable. The doctor had said that it would be best if she spent her final days surrounded by her family. So Dwayne, Liam, and I left Cameron to visit her as soon as possible. We were able to spend one last Christmas with her before she died.

The New Year was started with a funeral. Dwayne was absolutely inconsolable. I tried to be there for him as much as I could, but it was difficult to balance schoolwork, a new baby, and a grieving husband. Eventually, I just had to let him mourn on his own. He didn't seem to mind, however. In fact, he didn't seem to care about much at all. He barely ate. He slept a lot. And he had taken a week of vacation days from the school.

By Valentine's Day, I was the envy of all of my classmates. I had the highest marks in the class and I actually treated our teacher, Mr. Michaels, with respect. Therefore, I had the teacher's favor as well. But there were downsides to the situation as well. Dwayne and I hadn't been intimate in… three months. In fact, and it shames me to say this, I can count the number of times that we've talked on both hands.

The straw that broke the camel's back, however, came on Liam's first birthday. I had invited some friend's over and had decorated the kitchen for the party. Dwayne didn't even come downstairs. He had gotten himself so worked up over the fact that his mother wouldn't be able to see Liam's first birthday that he actually made himself sick. I couldn't take his crap anymore. After the party was over, I decided to confront him.

"Dwayne." I entered the room and sat down on the side of the bed. Dwayne didn't even react to my presence. "Dwayne, we need to talk about this. I know that you need to mourn, but this isn't healthy."

"You wouldn't understand. You barely even knew your mother. My mother was all that I had." Dwayne sobbed into his pillow. He had the trashcan next to the bed with a fresh bag in it just in case.

"But I do know that your mother wouldn't want you to do this to yourself." I insisted. It didn't help.

"Why don't you understand that I just want to be left alone?" Dwayne snapped, rolling over onto his side.

"You helped me out when I had a hard situation that I needed to deal with. Let me do this for you, Dwayne. Let me be the person that you can trust, that you can confide in." Because I really wanted to be that person for him.

"I don't need anyone, especially not some second-hand slut with Daddy issues." Dwayne spat.

My heart just about broke at his words. Was that all I was to him? A second-hand slut with Daddy issues? I couldn't believe that he had just said that. After all that we had been through, after all that he had _helped_ me through. It turned out that fairytales really don't exist after all. They're just stories that are told to children to make them believe that the impossible could become reality. My father had been right. I _was_ foolish.

Maybe all of this was a mistake. Maybe I wasn't really cut out to be a doctor, like Steph said I was. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a parent, like Dwayne told me that I was. Maybe all of this was a lie so that I wouldn't have to face the truth. All that I could ever hope to be was the son of a mob boss, because that was the hand that I had been dealt. You can only play with the cards in your hand, after all…

"Well, if that's the way that you feel, then I'll take my second-hand ass off of your hands. I'm taking Liam and I'm leaving." I said smartly. Dwayne didn't even react.

"Go ahead. See if I care." Was his cold-hearted retort.

I took off my wedding ring and my engagement bands and threw them at him. That seemed to shock him out of his stupor. "You can have these back. I don't need them anymore."

"W-What?" Dwayne asked, obviously confused.

"What, you didn't think that I was serious?" I shook my head as I slid off of the bed and made my way toward the door. "I'm taking Liam and I'm leaving. How does that make you feel?"

Dwayne looked down at his hands. "It makes me feel like shit. I am so, so sorry, John."

"Good." I smiled. "Now you know how I feel."


	17. Maybe

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

True to my word, I left him. I wasn't about to stick around with a man who thought so little of me. Dwayne continued to lay on the bed, dumbstruck and confused, as I walked out of the room and into Liam's nursery. Our little boy sat on the carpet with all of his baby toys scattered all over the floor. I picked him up and cradled him in my arms, before I grabbed his favorite teddy bear and his diaper bag. I didn't know how much I would need, so I took it all.

It wasn't until I started to load up the car that Dwayne moved his royal ass and showed some interest in the fact that I was fully prepared to leave him. He stood in the doorway, my wedding ring and engagement band in his hands, and if I wasn't mistaken, a few tears on his face. I tried my best to not think too much of it, but it was difficult. When it came to resolve, I had never been able to outlast Dwayne. So when he came over to the car, I was ready to face him.

"About what I said… back in the bedroom… I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it. It's just… it's all extremely hard and confusing. I loved my mother and was very close to her. And she was taken from me so suddenly…" Dwayne trailed.

I touched a hand to his shoulder and offered him a small, albeit stiff smile. "That's okay, Dwayne. It was my fault too. The timeframe for grief… well, there really isn't one. I shouldn't have pressured you like that."

"Still, that wasn't an excuse to say what I did. I'm truly sorry about that." Dwayne assured me. "Please, do me the honor of putting your rings back on."

I looked at him uncertainly, unsure if this was an omen of things to come. "You put them back on for me."

I offered him my hand and he took it in his, carefully sliding the engagement ring on, followed by the wedding ring. He then brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. Once I had my rings back on, Dwayne helped me take Liam out of the car and I carried all of his accessories. We moved back into the house and, for a while, life went back to normal. But reality always loomed around the corner to tell me that I could _never_ be normal…

* * *

Slowly, Dwayne lowered me down to the bed. He took extra care to make sure that I was comfortable, aware of the fact that I still felt some discomfort in my lower stomach. The doctor had said that it was totally normal. Male pregnancy, while recognized in the medical field, was still extremely uncommon. Unless I started to bleed, the doctor told me to take some Tylenol and rest until I felt better.

"How do you feel?" Dwayne asked softly. The older man slowly rubbed circles onto my flat stomach, his eyes hazed over and distant. "Is your stomach any better?"

"It feels fine now. It's only when I move around a lot that it starts to hurt. But you shouldn't be worried about it." I assured him, mesmerized by the feel of his hand as it swirled on my stomach.

Dwayne kissed me softly and I leaned into his touch, anxious to feel his hands on me. It felt like it had been forever since we had last touched, and really, it had been. We hadn't had sex since before Christmas. "Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes. "When have I ever lied to you?"

"Fine." Dwayne relented. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"You've never physically hurt me before." I said confidently. Our eyes locked and never left each other. "At least, not on purpose. I trust you, Dwayne. I really do."

Dwayne smiled and slowly started to unbutton my shirt. "Good. I'm so sorry that I ever hurt you, and I promise that I will do my best to never hurt you again. I love you, Johnny."

I smiled softly, comforted by his words. "I love you too, Dwayne."

Dwayne leaned forward and slid the shirt off of my body, before he threw it off to the side. It landed underneath the window. Slowly, Dwayne climbed over me and kissed my jaw, before he bit down and covered my chin and the side of my neck in little love bites. He continued down over my collarbone and onto my stomach, before his hands trailed over my belt. He slid it out and tossed it to the side, followed by my pants and my boxers.

He slicked his fingers with the lube and shoved two fingers into my hole. I moaned loudly and Dwayne rolled me onto my stomach, before he took the pillow and bit down onto it. Liam was asleep down the hall and I was afraid to wake him up. Our little boy had only started to sleep through the night recently, and I didn't want him to awaken. If he did, then he would be awake for hours until everyone else was exhausted.

Slowly, Dwayne slid another finger into my hole and started to scissor them. I moaned and arched my back, ready to take him. Dwayne noted this and took his fingers out, before he slicked his erection and pressed it to my entrance. With one hand on either hip, he slowly started to sink into me. I whined and tensed, but Dwayne rubbed my back until I was finally able to relax. Dwayne slid in until he was balls-deep.

"Do you know how beautiful you are, Johnny? You're fucking gorgeous. You're the most beautiful man that I have ever seen." Dwayne rambled. He stroked my back as he slowly drew out.

"You really think so?" I asked, slightly self-conscious.

"I _know_ so, baby. You are the most beautiful man in the world. I'm extremely lucky to have you as my husband, but even luckier to have you as the mother of my children." Dwayne smiled down at me.

I chuckled softly. I titled my head to the side and he kissed me softly. "I couldn't have done it without you, Dwayne. None of it. I owe you a huge 'thank you' for all that you've done for me."

Carefully, Dwayne started to move faster. It had been almost seven months since we had last done this and he didn't want to tear me, after all. He started to pound into me, stroke after stroke hitting my prostate dead-on. My entire body _burned_ with pleasure. It was unbelievable. And now, Dwayne started to bite into my shoulder blades and down my spine, eliciting little shivers that only heightened my pleasure.

"Faster… harder… fuck, Dwayne… harder!" I ordered him breathlessly. Those seemed to be the only words that I knew how to say now that my brain was clouded with lust.

All of a sudden, Dwayne flipped us over. He lay flat on his back and looked at me with an uncharacteristic shimmer in his eye. "Ride me, baby."

I didn't even hesitate. Slowly, I drew myself up, and then I brought myself down fast and hard. Over and over I went, up and down, up and down. Again, my brain was only able to register faster… harder… up… down… _more_. It was heaven and hell at the same time. I felt so fucking good that it was like I would burst, but at the same time, the pleasure was almost too much. It was almost _painful._

Suddenly, Dwayne's hip gyrations became incredibly erratic. The swollen head of his cock started to pound into my prostate mercilessly. I was seriously convinced that I was about to die. It felt so fucking _good_. And then, he stilled. With a long, drawn-out moan, he spilled inside of me. I could feel his seed coat me from the inside, washing away all of the reminders of my brothers and officially making me his.

I came soon after. Still riding him for all that he was worth, clenching down to milk him of every last drop of his seed, I came. The white essence splashed all over his stomach and my legs, and when I leaned down to rest on him for a minute, it caused our stomachs to stick together like glue. After a moment, he slid out of me and I rolled over, looking at him with hazed eyes. That was fucking fantastic.

After we had both collected our breath, Dwayne rolled over onto his side and looked down at me. "How would you like to go down and meet the family anyway? I'm sure that they would all love to meet you."

I looked at him with wide eyes, shocked by his proposal. "Are you sure? I mean, ever since your mother died you've been wary about that house and the family. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

But Dwayne shook his head. "Nonsense. They're still family." He assured me. "I'll call them and tell them that we have plans to visit, okay? Maybe we could even go to the beach and buy Liam some floaties."

"Yeah." I laughed at the idea. "If Liam won't even take a bath without a fuss, what makes you think he'll swim?"

"You never know, Johnny. He might just like it." Dwayne countered.

* * *

Well, I can safely say that I won that argument. When we arrived down at Dwayne's aunt's beach house, it was in the middle of one of the worst hurricane seasons that they had seen to date. It wasn't safe to be anywhere near the water and the police were constantly advising that the residents evacuate. However, Dwayne's aunt, uncle, and cousin were determined to wait it out. It would pass over, just like it always did.

Dwayne never really talked much about his family, so I didn't know too much about them. His uncle, Sid, was a lumberjack. As the story went, there was an accident in the lumber yard and Sid was hit in the head with one of the axes. They had to remove the left side of his brain and, as the doctor had said, he was 'occasionally not responsible for what he said or did'. That's how he earned the nickname Psycho Sid.

And then there was his Aunt, Jade. She looked like she had walked out of a Mardi Gras festival in New Orleans. She was all decked out in a lavender 'glitter suit' and had heels on that looked like they had been cut from the New York City skyline. As she walked around the kitchen to fix us some food to eat, she hummed a tune all her own and swished her hips back and forth.

But really, the star was his baby cousin Alicia. She was as pretty as the Oriental dolls that my Mom used to collect, but she had some bite to her. The twenty-two year old came downstairs in a short denim skirt, a pink checkerboard button-down that had been tied just beneath her breasts, and a fox-skin cape with a matching hood. She was also barefoot. And she had the nerve to look at _us_ like we were the odd ones.

Jade walked over and took her daughter by the shoulders. "John, I would like you to meet my baby. Alicia, this is John. He's Dwayne's new husband."

"_Mom_," Alicia whined petulantly. "I'm not a baby anymore!" But then, she earned a harsh look from Sid. "Hello, John. It's a real honor to meet you. Oh! Is that the baby? How cute!"

Within seconds, she was over and playing with Liam. Jade shook her head. "Sorry about her, John."

I waved it off. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure that I'll have plenty of chances to talk with her. Liam will only be this small once." I said. This seemed to comfort her.

"So, John, what are you doing with your life?" Sid asked.

Sid kind of gave off the impression of 'serial killer from a horror movie'. "I want to be a doctor, so I'm in school."

"Wow." Jade seemed impressed. "A doctor in the family. How nice."

"But, in the meantime, I work at the gym back in Cameron as the manager of the Snack Bar and I also bartend at the new McMahon's that opened up." I explained to her. I didn't want them to think that I was mooching off of Dwayne.

"And Dwayne's still only a teacher." Sid said condescendingly. Jade smacked him on the shoulder.

All of a sudden, I was hit by a strong wave of nausea. I tried to brush it off as if it were nothing, but when Jade took the food out of the oven, it came back full-force. Politely, I excused myself from the table and made a mad dash for the bathroom. I barely made it there in time before I vomited into the toilet bowl. Whenever I thought that I was finished and would try to stand, another bout would hit.

Somehow, Dwayne broke away from the commotion at the table and came to kneel beside me. He rubbed my back to offer some sense of comfort, but really, neither of us knew what we were dealing with. When all that was left were dry heaves, he filled a little Dixie cup with water and handed it to me. I used it to rinse my mouth out and spit the foul, soiled water into the toilet. Dwayne flushed it for me while I sat down on the side of the bathtub, winded.

"What the hell was that?" Dwayne asked. He sounded like he was more mad that concerned, but I couldn't tell for sure. "One minute you're fine and the next you're vomiting. Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"No. I don't need to go to the doctor. I'm just not used to the different elevation, that's all. We're here for a week, remember? Let me get accustomed to the new place before we start making rash judgments." I said.

And then, all of the color drained out of Dwayne's face. "Do you think that you could be pregnant?"

I was terrified at the very idea of it. Another baby? So soon after Liam was born? "No. That can't be true."

However, deep down, I knew that there was a significant chance that I was pregnant once again. I just wasn't the kind that fell sick so easily, and to make matters worse, with such violent symptoms. I was actually afraid to go back out there and smell the food that Jade was making. It had once smelled delicious, but now I didn't want to be around food anymore. All I could think of was: _another baby, another baby, another baby…_


	18. Confirmation

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M (Mature)  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

About three days into our visit, the hurricane had passed over, just as Jade had anticipated. Dwayne insisted that we take Liam out to the water and see how he liked it. So we dressed him in his little swim trunks and his _Finding Nemo_ floaties, before we all started out to the beach. It was nice out. Not too hot, but with a considerable amount of sun so that it was easy to work on your tan. You know, 'cause that was all that Dwayne was concerned about…

I set Liam on the sand between us. He studied the water warily. And then, he turned his chocolate brown eyes to me in confusion. He had never seen the ocean before, except maybe on some of his cartoons, so it was understandable that he would be a little scared of it. I picked him up and carried him a little bit closer to the water. We sat near the shore, so close to the water that some even lapped at our feet. Liam giggled and flapped his little hands in the air.

"See, I told you that he would like the water." Dwayne said. I rolled my eyes. The kid _hated_ to take a bath, but he loved the ocean. That just didn't make sense. "Maybe, when he's a little older, we can teach him to swim."

I couldn't help but snicker a little bit at that. Dwayne liked to think a little bit too far into the future, at least in my opinion. "Yeah, when he's like… six or seven, at least. Or when his feet can touch the bottom of a pool."

Dwayne smiled, but then a more serious look came over him. "How do you feel, John? Are you nauseous?"

I shook my head. "No. I haven't really been nauseous since the first day." I told him. "But I did throw up this morning. I couldn't eat breakfast either."

"Do you think that you should take the test?" Dwayne asked. "Just for the peace of mind."

I shrugged. "Do you think that I should take the test? Isn't it a little soon after Liam to have another baby?"

"I don't think that your body will magically stop being pregnant because it is too soon to have another baby." He said.

I leaned back on my elbows and watched as Liam continued to flap his arms up and down, looking strangely akin to a bird. He was so adorable. He had a thin coat of the most adorable brown ringlets on his head and his eyelashes rivaled the fake eyelashes that could be bought at the supermarket. He was my pride and joy, my little man. When he noticed that I was looking at him, he turned his head to the side and stared at me, a big smile on his face.

I reached out and ruffled my little man's hair. He giggled, his smile only widening. When I stopped, he climbed into my lap and planted a big, wet kiss on my cheek. Dwayne watched the entire scene unfold with a proud smile on his face. I knew how much it meant to him to have a child that was happy and healthy. I wasn't sure if he could make it through the loss of a second child. It would just be too much.

Once we were finished outside, Dwayne, Liam, and I made our way back to the house. Jade had a serious look on her face as she wandered around the kitchen, preparing dinner for all of us. I looked to Sid, who also seemed to be upset by something. However, what it was, that was a mystery. When Dwayne and I entered the kitchen, Jade leveled me with a harsh scowl. I flinched, but Dwayne's hand on the small of my back comforted me.

"Dwayne, sweetheart?" Jade asked my husband in a faux sweet voice. "Can we have a conversation in the other room, Dwayne? This is important."

Dwayne looked uncertain, but Jade wasn't about to waver. "Of course, Aunt Jade. Why don't you go get changed, baby?" Dwayne asked me.

"Okay." I nodded weakly. I was extremely worried.

Walking back to the guest bedroom that the three of us shared, I dried Liam off with a fluffy white towel and draped his swim trunks over the back of a nearby chair. I put him in a fresh diaper and some stretchy waistband jeans with a _Cars_ t-shirt. Then I dried myself off and dressed in some loose sweats and a white tank top. I didn't really feel like getting all dressed up. Maybe I had been too quick to tell Dwayne that I wasn't nauseous.

Dwayne stormed into the bedroom a moment later, took my suitcase, and started to throw my stuff into it furiously. I blinked at him, confused. He was muttering a string of vile curses under his breath and I covered Liam's ears so that he wouldn't hear them and repeat them. When he was finished with my suitcase, he started with his own. It had taken us two hours to pack, but only five minutes for Dwayne to re-pack all of our stuff.

"What's the matter, Dwayne?" I asked, shocked at his behavior. "What could Jade have said that was so bad that we have to leave?" Dwayne didn't answer. "Dwayne, answer me. You're scaring Liam."

Dwayne stopped short and sighed, obviously distressed. "She said such horrible stuff about you. She said that you were the son of a mob boss, the same King of Crime in Massachusetts who has killed all of those men!"

I thought that I would faint. How could she have figured it out? "Why would she think such a thing?"

"She saw it on the news. She should know better than to trust half of the shit that she hears on the news!" Dwayne continued to rant. "I can't believe that she would accuse you of that!"

"Yeah." I said weakly, but it didn't have any conviction behind it. "That is a wild accusation."

"Well, I told her that I wouldn't stand around and listen to her berate you. We're leaving. Now." Dwayne said.

Dwayne walked out of the room, balancing all of our suitcases in his arms. I carried Liam and walked closely behind him. Dwayne shot one last hateful look toward his aunt, who narrowed her eyes at me distrustfully. I didn't feel welcomed into his family anymore. It was unfortunate, but that was the way that it had to be. I don't think that they ever forgave me for his death. To be totally honest, I don't blame them.

* * *

One week later, I took the test and found out that I was, indeed, pregnant. "Dwayne?" I called out to my husband, who was still fuming from his aunt and uncle's 'betrayal'.

"What is it, John?" Dwayne asked. "I don't have much time to talk. I have to read over the new curriculum for this year. There are so many errors; it's almost ironic that a _teacher_ wrote this."

"I took the test like you told me that I should. I'm pregnant. We're going to have another baby." I told him. I'll admit that I didn't sound all that excited, but I was still in shock about it all.

"You're… you're pregnant?" And Dwayne proceeded to choke on his coffee.

Immediately, I raced behind him and started to smack his back harshly. That was what my mother used to do to me when I would choke on my juice. When he had calmed down a little bit, I went into the kitchen and filled a glass with ice water. He thanked me with a small smile and drank a few mouthfuls, before he put the glass down. He breathed heavily for a few minutes and I wondered if he was actually excited about the new baby.

Dwayne motioned for me to sit down at the other end of the table. As I walked over and took my seat, Dwayne folded up the work that was in front of him and set it in his laptop case. He logged off of the school's website and turned off his computer, before he closed that as well. Now I knew that I had his undivided attention. I think that I would have rather had him concentrate on his work instead.

"So, we're going to have another baby?" Dwayne asked. For the first time, excitement crept into his tone.

"Yeah." I nodded and swallowed hard. "Do you… do you want to have another baby? I mean, I know that Liam is still in diapers and all… and it all seems really sudden."

Dwayne nodded. "It _is_ sudden. But we'll still love the baby. We'll love Liam and his baby brother or sister equally, no matter how difficult it will be with them being so close together in age."

I blinked at him and looked at him through my lashes. "Do you love me, Dwayne?"

Dwayne blinked at my dumbly. "Of course I love you, Johnny? Why would you think that I don't?"

"No reason." I retorted easily. "I just… you didn't believe what your aunt said about me, did you?"

"You're still worried about that?" Dwayne asked. "No, I didn't believe her. Sometimes, I think that she's almost as crazy as Uncle Sid. I wouldn't worry about a word that comes out of her mouth."

"If you're sure…" I trailed off, uncertain.

I wanted to believe that Dwayne didn't trust a word that came out of her mouth, but I couldn't be certain. I wasn't a mind reader; I couldn't see what he really believed. It killed me that there was a chance that my entire world could be pulled out from underneath me and I was none the wiser. However, it was the price that I chose to pay. It was what I had to suffer if I didn't want to reveal my secret.

* * *

"His family hates me, Steph. His aunt and uncle practically ran us out of the house." I whined to my best friend, Stephanie McMahon. It wasn't really a whine, but that's what it sounded like.

_"I don't understand how they could hate you, Johnny. You're a wonderful parent and you really love Dwayne. What could they have to complain about?"_ Steph asked. From the sound of it, she didn't really like Dwayne's family.

"His aunt pulled him into the other room to have a 'private conversation' with him." I told her.

_"Oh."_ A pause. _"Well, that could mean one of two things. Either she's a bitch, or she's a snobby bitch."_

I rolled my eyes. "Isn't that basically the same thing?"

I could almost see Steph roll her eyes. _"Don't be so literal, Johnny. And she sounds like a real bitch. If she had something bad to say about you, say it to your face. Don't tell your husband behind your back."_

"I know. I think that that was what insulted me the most. I felt that that was extremely rude." I confessed to her. "And I also have word that she insulted Liam too."

_"What? Why? What did Liam ever do to her besides smother her with cuteness?"_ Steph asked, affronted.

"I honestly don't know. It really pissed me off, however. I didn't say anything because she's my in-law and I didn't want to hurt her feelings or hurt Dwayne in the process." I explained to her.

_"Sometimes you just have to learn to stand up for yourself, Johnny. You can't let other people control your life. I'm sure that Dwayne took your side, didn't he?"_ Steph asked.

"Yeah. He was so upset that we left before the week was even over." I chuckled. "Oh, and we found out that I'm pregnant again. I think I'm a few weeks along."

_"That's wonderful! I am so throwing you a baby shower this time!"_ Steph insisted.

"You really don't have to do that, Steph. Really." I told her, a little embarrassed.

_"I insist. I'll plan everything. You won't even have to lift a finger."_ And so, the date was set.


	19. Ted and Cody

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, etc.

* * *

The next month and a half were all a blur.

So I think that I will start with that September. Liam was already fifteen months and he was such a charmer with the ladies down at the daycare. Since their really weren't that many children at the daycare in the months while school was in session, Liam had most (if not all) of the attention on him. And from the smug little smile on his face, he liked it that way. He liked it a lot. I swear that the only time he would kick and scream was when I came to take him home.

I worked hard at my studies and therefore I excelled in my classes. I would have done so in secondary school as well, but with all of the abuse that I endured at the hands of my father this was kind of difficult. In fact, had it not been for my father's 'influence' in the school, I would have flunked out in the time while I was in the 'Punishment Room'. It wasn't really fair, but that was the way it had to be. I can't change it, so why dwell on it?

Dwayne continued to remain pleasantly aloof to the fact that my father worked for the mob and I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it that way. Sure, there was the fact that the less he knew meant that he was safer… but that couldn't be true, could it? How could he defend himself if he didn't know who the enemy was? But every time that that idea came to my mind, I shook it off. Maybe, this one time, he was better left in the dark…

* * *

I officially met Ted DiBiase Jr. for the first time in December of that year. I am ashamed to admit that I had judged him from the fact that he was with a little bitch like Cody, and I was so determined to make him into a bad man that I didn't look to see the introverted shell of a man underneath. Ted was incredibly shy. Sometimes, he would stumble over his words or would just remain silent because he didn't know how to voice what he wanted to say.

Even if Ted was the dominant in his relationship with Cody (which surprised me, I might add), it was clear that Cody wore the pants in the relationship. When you did manage to force two words out of the man, Ted was more laid back and wanted to please others before himself. Actually, I saw a lot of myself in him. It seemed that the both of us had been cut from the same cloth. Maybe that was why we became friends so easily.

As I became closer to Ted, I kind of let Dwayne drift back to Cody. I knew that whatever they would have wouldn't be serious, not with Dwayne choosing to marry me and not with all of the water under the bridge regarding Summer and her death. Still, I didn't always feel comfortable with Cody around and I told Dwayne as much. Dwayne brushed off my concerns easily, so, in the end, I never felt better about the situation.

"Ted, can I ask you a question?" I asked him. We both sat out on the front porch of the home that Dwayne and I shared, root beer floats in hand. It wasn't too chilly outside, so the cold drink was appreciated.

"I think that you just did." Ted joked carefully. Ted was a funny man, but the jokes he said were few and far between. "No, it's fine. Ask me whatever you want."

"I want to know why Cody is the way that he is. Was he like that before he met Dwayne?" I asked him.

Ted looked down at his root beer float and mumbled, "Yes and no."

"What do you mean? It can't be both."

Ted turned to me slowly. "Yes, he was like that. He was the baby of the family, aside from his sister. His older brother was a bit femmy, you know? He became a famous cross-dresser in major motion films. Cody was 'normal'."

I shook my head slowly, still in shock from what he had told me. "So, his brother is Dustin Runnells? I think that I may have seen some of his movies. My mother loved to watch them. Their comedies, aren't they?"

Ted nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, Cody was his father's last shot at normalcy. He sent his son to this really expensive prep school to learn the trade and Cody was easily the prettiest boy there. This led to… stuff…"

"You mean he was…" I trailed off as Ted looked at me warily.

"Yes." He nodded, thankful that he didn't have to finish that sentence. "He had a nervous breakdown and couldn't be on the runway because he couldn't stand to be that close to anyone. His modeling career was ruined."

"What did his father do?" I asked, still in shock. "I mean, he's a model now, so obviously something had to give. Did he receive the help that he needed?"

"You could say that. But what really happened is he started to self-medicate on prescription pills, got too high to think straight, had a one-night stand with Dwayne, and ended up pregnant. The rest you already know." Ted said.

We took our empty glasses back into the house and put them under some water in the sink. Ted politely excused himself and Cody, before the two left to start their walk back home. They didn't live too far off, but since Dwayne's house was rather secluded, it seemed like they lived several miles away. We waved them off, and before I could say a word to Dwayne, he wandered off into the kitchen and started to make dinner.

I was left to silently mull over what Ted had told me. Could it be true? Could Cody really have been raped? Could he have had a problem with narcotics like I did? It seemed as if this world, with all of its different regions, really came together in that moment with a story to tell me. I could have ended up like Cody. I could have been a bratty little bitch who had been spoiled by his father for all the wrong reasons and ended up being raped all the same.

Life just wasn't fair.

* * *

_"How far have you come in that diary, John?" He asks. He says that he is my doctor, but I don't trust him. The white of his lab coat is too pure to be any doctor that I know._

_I blink at him dumbly and ask, "What diary?" And he frowns, because this is the same dance that we have practiced for a year and a half now. He's tired of it and I can see that._

_"John, you'll be in here for as long as it takes to admit that they're dead. Your husband and your boys were murdered. Until you can accept that, this is your new home." _

_The sterile white color of the room blinds me. I know where I am. It's called a sanitarium. Down the hall are the padded cells… I've been there before. They bind you up in a straight jacket to make sure that you can't hurt yourself or someone else. I've never tried to hurt myself. I don't want to hurt myself. I only want to hurt the bastard's that… no, my husband and my boys are still alive. They'll wait for me. No, they'll save me._

_I only narrow my eyes at this man, who thinks that he knows me. So he knows that I am the son of a mob boss, so what? I'm fairly certain that that is common knowledge all the way in China. He doesn't know the shit I've endured, the hell that I've been through, just to come back to my husband and my boys. I won't admit that they're dead because they're not. That blood… it wasn't real. When they didn't answer me… it was just a cruel joke._

_"How far have you come in that diary, John?" He asks. At first, I refuse to answer him. He doesn't care about me or my family, so he doesn't deserve an answer._

_Finally, I relent. "It's about Cody." I tell him. He nods and smiles. "Wipe that sick smile off of your face, bastard. You don't know half of the hell that I've endured."_

_The smug bastard had the nerve to smile. "Oh, but John, when you're finished with that diary, I will know all about you. And I will take *great* pleasure in getting to know you better."_

_I blanche. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

_He smirks and walks toward the door. "You'll see, Johnny. You'll see."_

* * *

Slowly, I rolled over onto my back. The light from the window blinded me. That in itself was unusual. The windows were never open in the morning because Dwayne liked to sleep in whenever he could, and he would often complain about the sun trying to wake him up too early. I rolled over again, wanting to kiss my husband and nuzzle into his side as we woke up for our morning ritual… but he wasn't there.

I shook my head, displeased by this. Without really thinking about it, I rolled out of bed and shuffled over to the bathroom. Once I finished my business in there, I came back and dressed myself for the day. Some jeans and a loose t-shirt too hide my considerably larger baby bump would suffice. I would never understand how, with your first baby, you would barely show for several months. But with the second, you show almost immediately.

"Dwayne? Dwayne, sweetheart? Are you here?" I called out to him, but I didn't receive an answer. This concerned me. Dwayne never left home before I was awake.

That's when I found this note:

**_Dear Candy-Ass,_**

**_I know that I shouldn't have left before you woke up, but this is an emergency. Cody overdosed last night after he had Ted had a big fight and he is on life support at the moment. His lungs failed him and he almost died. You have to trust me when I say that I'm not still in love with Cody, but we will always have that connection through Summer. I need to be there for him._**

**_I need you to call Ted and talk with him. Ted was originally Cody's emergency contact, but they can't get a hold of him. It must've been a really bad fight is all that I can say, because Ted is head over heels for that boy. Please, talk to him. See if he can screw Cody's head back on straight. Cody needs someone in his life who loves him, damaged or not. Ted is that man. I know it and I can feel it._**

**_Now, for you and Liam, I left you lunch and dinner. You're on your own for breakfast, Candy-Ass. But I'm sure that you'll be able to figure out how to pour cereal. Take good care of Liam and kiss him for me. Tell him that Daddy loves him and that he should be home soon, okay. I love you both and I will be home soon. But be sure to talk to Ted for me, okay?_**

**_Love, Dwayne._**

I rolled my eyes. How was it that Cody seemed to interfere in our relationship, even when he had overdosed and was in bed dying? No, I shouldn't think like that. Ted needed Cody, Cody needed Ted, and Dwayne was, unfortunately, the middle man. And damn if he wasn't about to pull me into the middle of it too. I cast one last look at the note, before I took out my phone.

I was in for one awkward conversation…


	20. Retribution

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

The next week and a half were hell for me. Dwayne was almost never home – he would leave before I was out of bed and return when I was already knocked out, exhausted from the day's events. He told me that it was totally innocent, but I wasn't sure anymore. The connection that he had with Cody was fierce and fiery. I didn't know if one little setback in Cody's emotional rollercoaster would set that connection ablaze.

If someone invented a machine that made a person able to be in fifty places at once, then maybe I wouldn't have flunked one of my tests and earned all of ten dollars in tips over the course of the week. But really, I could only blame myself. I let the situation with Cody overpower my faith in Dwayne. I was Dwayne's husband and I was supposed to support him until the end. Instead, I had bailed on him and let myself fall into depression. Well, not anymore.

I blocked out the weekly schedule on a calendar in the kitchen, which took the day, hour by hour, and broke it down. I had classes from nine until three, then I had work from three until six. After that, I would take Liam home and we would have dinner. Once that was over around seven, I would devote two solid hours to my studies. And then it was off to bed. If I went to bed earlier, than I could be there when Dwayne left to visit Cody.

Luckily, the plan was an immediate success. Thanks to a little talk with my teacher, I was able to talk her into an extra study session after class that Saturday, where we would review the subject matter and she would then let me take a retest. My money influx improved as well. It seemed like a winning smile always seemed to make the customers put a little bit more into the tip jar. That money went directly to diapers, after all.

It's been a month now and the date is November 22nd. Cody is out of his coma, but he had some major internal issues that needed to be fixed before he could be released. I was at work, about halfway into my shift, when Ted stumbled in. Ted hadn't been to see Cody once in the month that Cody had been in the hospital. I didn't understand it. How could Ted care so much about Cody, but bail on him when he really needed him?

"Hi, Ted." I welcomed him with a smile, despite the tumultuous emotions that stirred within me. "What can I do for you today? We have a variety of energy drinks, different kinds of water, and healthy snacks."

Ted looked at the menu that was on one of the pillars around the Snack Bar, before he made his order. "I'll have a red vitamin water and a oatmeal raisin bar." Ted slid onto one of the bar stools. "I need to talk to you, John."

I retrieved the items that he had asked me for. "What?"

"Have you ever felt like you weren't good enough for someone?"

I blinked, dumbfounded by the question. It described my entire childhood in a nutshell. "I think that we all feel like that at times. Why? Is this about your fallout with Cody?"

"Thanks." He said as I handed him the food and drink. "And yes, it is about Cody."

"You still have doubts? I mean, haven't you two been an item for awhile now?"

Ted shook his head. "Not really. Well, not like everyone thinks. At first, Cody and I only dated because he wanted his father off his back. His bastard of a father is _still_ fuming about Summer, did you know that?"

I shook my head.

"He thinks that it's Dwayne's fault. He insists that because Cody was pregnant before they were married, Dwayne is somehow responsible for her death. What a load of bull!" Ted rolled his eyes.

I had never heard this story before. I took a rag out and started to scrub down the counter, trying to look uninterested, but it was somewhat difficult. I couldn't help but wonder about Cody's family. Was his father as bad as everyone made him out to be? And if he was, I could relate. Truth be told, I could see my father making the same hurried judgment. And it killed me inside to know that he would never accept Liam if he knew he had two fathers.

Before now, I had never really thought about contacting anyone from my family. I didn't really want to, even after the idea came to me. Mail could easily be traced. If he was able to find me, then he could kill my husband and my baby boy and he could make me miscarry my baby. I didn't doubt that he would do that. But maybe it was worth the try. Maybe, after three years, he was a different man. Maybe.

"I just… I'm not sure what I want to do. I know that Cody is sick, but I can't force myself to visit him. I shouldn't have to force myself, you know?" Ted voiced what was on his mind sadly.

"I know how you feel." I told him. "At first, I didn't want Dwayne to visit Cody in the hospital every day. It didn't sit well with me. But then I realized that that was what he _needed_ to do. Maybe you and Cody _need_ this time apart."

"If we have this time apart, I'm worried that we will never reconnect." Ted mumbled sullenly.

I shook my head. "You can't worry about that. Worry will only hold you back. Think positive thoughts. Think that the time apart will help you to come closer together."

Ted finished off his vitamin water and nodded. "Thank you."

* * *

_Dear Dad,_

_It's been awhile. I would ask how you've been, but I really don't care. Three years tend to change someone. I'm not the little bitch that you locked in that closet anymore. I'm not some scared little kid that you can lead around on a leash. You don't control me anymore. I realized that all you had over me was the fear. The fear of the unknown. I didn't know what was outside of the walls of our house, but now, I know better._

_I still have the scar from the first time that you injected me with the venom, the morphine. I will never forgive you for that. Your precious little boys, your four oldest boys… they raped me while I was high and continued on for eight hours. Eight fucking hours. And while I hope that each and every one of them burns for what they did, I hope that you know that it is your fault as well. You let them get away with murder and you let them hurt me._

_But even if I hate you, even if I think that you are a sick bastard that needs to rot, I still love you. Believe it or not, you are my father and even I have to acknowledge that. I hope that our paths never cross. For the first time in my life, I'm actually happy and I know that I deserve the love that I earned. Dad, you never loved me. You loved to abuse me. And still, I can't force myself to hate you. That is the hold you have over me._

_Remember when you told me that 'fairytales don't exist'? I remember that day so clearly. You called my mother a bitch and told me all that she had ever told me was a lie. Now, I know the truth. She wasn't the liar. You were. Every word that came out of your mouth was a lie. I don't trust you, and I certainly don't trust my brother's, especially with all of the letters that I've found around my home and in my car._

_I have two words for you, daddy dearest. Watch out. You may think that you're strong, with your little henchman to hide behind while you end countless lives, but you're not. And if you so much as touch a hair on my little boy's head, I will make sure that they never, ever find your body. That's not a threat, Dad. That's a promise. Take it to the cops. Take it to your henchman. I don't care. But take it to heart, because I am totally serious._

_John_

"Do I mail this?" I asked myself this question out loud. "Do I mail this letter? It could be a horrific mistake, but it would be such sweet relief. What do I do? What do I do?"

In the end, I mailed the letter. I don't know if he ever read it, but I do know that it was recovered from his dead body, stuffed into his shirt pocket, with a bloody bullet hole through it.


	21. The Baby Shower

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

Thankfully, Cody was released from the hospital in late October. He was on suicide watch for a month after that, but at least he was still alive. Eventually, he and Ted were able to reconcile their differences and finally decided that, with the help of a counselor, they could make it work. This, of course, meant that Dwayne and I had more time to spend with each other. On the first day that he was home, I made him his dinner so that he could have the day off.

"Hon… what is this?" Dwayne asked uncertainly. He stabbed at his meat with a knife and watched it start to bubble with a look of unease.

"It's pork." I told him easily. Liam sat in his chair and happily suckled away at his bottle. I took a seat across from Dwayne and started to cut my own meat. "Don't look at it like that. It won't attack you."

"I don't think that it should bubble like this…" Dwayne continued. His eyes widened when he realized he couldn't cut the meat. I continued to munch down on my food, blissfully unaware. "Sweetheart?"

"Yes, Dwayne?" I asked. He motioned down to his food, his eyes as wide as saucers.

"Was the pork defrosted when you put it in the oven?" He asked slowly.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course it was! Well, mostly, anyway. Why, isn't yours cooked?"

He stabbed his knife through the center and a loud, obnoxious crack was heard as all of the ice inside broke apart. "I don't think so. But I don't understand. Even if it wasn't all defrosted, it should have cooked."

That was when I realized my error and frowned, dejected. "I may have forgotten to break them apart before I put them in the oven… I'm sorry, Dwayne. I guess we can order Chinese in for dinner…"

I was saddened by the sudden revelation that, when it came to cooking, I was just unable to master that art. I took his dish before he could say another word and walked into the kitchen, dumping all of the food into the trashcan under the sink and running some warm water onto the dishes. The flies were horrible this time of year and I didn't want any of them in the house. Some of them bit and I didn't want Liam to be hurt.

Dwayne came into the kitchen and wrapped both of his muscular arms around my waist, before he settled one hand on my small baby bump. It never ceased to amaze me that, even as a carrier, a man could have a baby. Each child that we had was our own little miracle. And even if we really didn't have all that much room in the house, or that much money in the budget, I knew that we would make do. Dwayne kissed my neck softly.

"Now, baby-bear, don't be like that. I really appreciate the fact that you would try and cook for me. It's more the thought than anything else, right?" Dwayne asked.

"You can't eat a thought, can you?" I asked him sarcastically. I dried my hands off and started to search for the menu for Panda Garden. "Dwayne, where is the Chinese menu?"

Dwayne shrugged. "I don't know."

I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Fine." Dwayne relented. "I know where the damn menu is." But then, he smirked. It made me more than a little uneasy. "But I won't tell you unless you kiss me."

"I think that I can handle that." I told him with a soft smile as I started to walk up to him.

But Dwayne shook his head. "You also have to say that you're not mad about the fact that you didn't cook the pork properly, and then you have to agree to let me show you how to do it."

"I can do it myself." I denied, but both of us knew that that was a lie. "Fine. You can teach me how to cook the pork, okay?" I kissed him on the cheek, because I knew that I would bite him if I kissed him on the mouth.

"Okay." Dwayne nodded. "The menu that you want is in the utensil drawer. I hid it there in case you decided to get another 'midnight craving'."

I blushed and looked away, trying and failing to look insulted. We both remembered that incident all too well. I had gotten hungry in the middle of the night while I was still pregnant with Liam, so I got out of bed and ordered like, half of the menu from the Chinese restaurant. It cost a fortune and when it arrived, it all made my stomach turn and I couldn't eat any of it. When Dwayne found out, he couldn't stop laughing.

Dwayne noticed my blush and smiled easily. "I love you, Johnny."

I hit him on the shoulder, but managed a reluctant, "I love you too." And everything was back to normal.

* * *

True to her word, Stephanie threw me a baby shower. Everyone, old friends and new, were invited. It was held at McMahon's bar, but since I was pregnant, the only 'beer' that was served was root beer. Hunter looked less than excited to have all of the fluffy, frilly decorations all over the place, but his wife loved them and that was all that it took to keep his mouth shut. I was thankful for that.

"Have you found out what the gender of the baby is?" Stephanie asked. All of the other women nodded excitedly. There had to be a million of them there.

"Yes, we actually found out this week." I told them. "We found out that it is a little boy. We want to name him Michael Devon, after Dwayne's close friend D'Von."

All of the women cooed at the name. One of the bigger women, but one of the kindest… I think that her name was Kaitlin, came to the front of the crowd. "Has the baby kicked?"

I nodded. "Do you want to feel?"

She nodded hesitantly. I motioned for her to come kneel beside me and then I took her hand and placed it over where the baby had kicked recently. I started talking to my little boy, telling him about how happy we all were that he would soon be a part of this world. That's when he kicked. It was strong and hard and it almost made Kaitlin jump out of her skin. I smiled and watched as a slow smile spread across her face as well.

One by one, all of the women had a chance to feel Michael kick. They all cooed in awe and complimented about what a strong man he would be when he was older. I smiled kindly and accepted all of their praise and all of their compliments. To be totally honest, I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic with all of their hands on me. I was uncomfortable, but I didn't know how to tell them this.

"It's time to open presents!" Stephanie clapped her hands together with excitement. "Kaitlin, why don't you bring the first one over. We don't want John to have to walk that far."

"Okay, Steph." Kaitlin followed the older woman's order and brought back a neatly wrapped box. I took it from her hands with a small smile.

It was a collection of different clothes for the different seasons. There were some warmer clothes for fall and winter, and then there were shorts and onesies for spring and summer. They were all cute with different unisex patterns on them. I thanked the woman with a smile and accepted the next box. It was a diaper bag that had been monogrammed to say 'Proud 'Mom'' on the side of it. It was totally adorable. Once more, I thanked her.

It went on like that for the next hour and a half. Whenever I opened one box, it seemed like two more took its place. By the time that I was through, I had several boxes of diapers, some new bottles, a ton of clothes, some baby toys, teething rings, some shoes and socks, and some music to play so that he would sleep easier. From the mountain that all of the items formed, I believed that I would be set for life.

That was when Kaitlin, with a confused look on her face, found one more box that seemed to be hidden away from all of the others. It wasn't marked and had no unusual patterns on the outside of the box. It actually looked like the kind of box that would come from somewhere like Fed-Ex. With no idea who it was from and no clue what the contents would be, she handed it over to me hesitantly. I looked inside.

"What is it?" Steph asked. She voiced the question that all of us wanted to know.

My hand trembled as I pulled out a bib. "It's a bib that says 'I love my Grandpa' on it." I couldn't believe that that sick bastard would dare to send me a bib for my unborn son. And how did he know I was pregnant.

"Aww, that's so sweet. You're father must've sent it here before you came and we must not have realized it." Steph said. She had no clue about the fact that my father was a mob boss, either.

"Yes, it's really sweet. Where does your father live? I don't think we've ever seen him in Cameron when we come to visit." AJ said. AJ had moved back to Nowhere last month.

"He lives in West Newbury, Mass." I told her. "That's where I used to live, before I moved to Cameron."

"Massachusetts is a place with such a rich history. I can't believe that you wouldn't want to stay there!" Kaitlin exclaimed.

I flinched and looked down. "You know what? I'm actually kind of tired. I think that I will have to hit the road."

"John?" Steph asked, concerned. "Why are you leaving so suddenly? Is something wrong?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm just tired. I think that I need to head home and take a nap."

"You have a ten hour drive home, John. At least stay the night here and then you can head home in the morning." Steph offered. "Or, better yet, let one of us drive you back."

Once more, I shook my head. "No. I'd rather be by myself if you don't mind. And don't worry, if I get too tired, I'll pull into a motel or something. I promise that I won't over do it."

"Okay." Steph sighed. She knew when she had been defeated. "I'll help you take your stuff to the car."

Steph helped me to load all of the baby stuff into the back of the truck. It wasn't actually my truck, as I still drove the newly remodeled Mustang that Dwayne had bought me for my birthday. It was Dwayne's truck, but he had leant it to me because he knew how much stuff that I would receive at the shower and he knew that I wouldn't be able to fit it into the Mustang. At least it would be safe in the bed of the truck.

Steph wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug and kissed my cheek. I think that I really needed that, because I felt much better afterword. "If you need anything, and I mean _anything _at all, you know that you can call me."

"Yes, Steph. If I have any problems, I'll call you. And I'll make sure that I call you as soon as I get home to let you know that I'm safe." I assured her.

"I'll be waiting."


	22. Michael's Birth

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam and Michael.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

I hid the bib for several days. I honestly didn't know what to do with it. I couldn't lie to Dwayne and say that it had come from his side of the family, because Dwayne's father had abandoned him and his mother when he was only a boy and that would open old wounds that I really didn't want to have to deal with at the moment. But I couldn't tell him that the bib had come from my side of the family, because he knew about all of the terrible shit they had done to me.

I was at a loss. What should I do? In the end, I burned it. Liam and I sat and watched as the flames bit into the soft fabric and all of it turned into ash. Liam, who had started to speak a few words (like 'Ma' and 'Da' for instance) told me that he was 'confused'. However, it came out more like 'con-fuzed'. I smiled and patted his little head, telling him that there was nothing to worry about and nothing to be confused over.

* * *

Michael Devon Johnson was born two months prematurely. He was born February 14th at 3:34 AM.

I was extremely worried about it. At the last ultrasound, we discovered that his lungs were a little slow in developing (which, of course, could be caused by any number of things) and that they would have to continue to monitor him to see the progress. They also mentioned the possibility of life-long disabilities caused by his under-developed lungs. And the fact that I went into labor two weeks later didn't help my worries.

Mostly, I was worried about Dwayne. I knew what losing Summer had taken out of him and I didn't want him to ever have to experience that kind of heartbreak again. It just wasn't fair. But when the doctor held Michael for the first time and the little baby took his first gasping breaths, I knew that it would be okay. Carefully, the doctor wrapped him up in a little blue blanket and then he handed him over to me. The baby lay on my chest and blinked at me slowly.

Michael had the most breathtaking blue eyes that I had ever seen. I can still remember them today, even if it has been a year and a half since I had last seen them. But I don't want to remember them the way that I last saw them – eternally open, blood smeared on his face, fear in his eyes. No, I want to remember him with that babyish innocence about him. He was so totally adorable.

"He's our Valentine's present." Dwayne said softly. "We should have named him Valentine." He joked, before he reached forward and touched the little baby's chubby cheek.

I chuckled at the idea of it. "You want to name him _Valentine_? Seriously, Dwayne? I think that he would be teased by just about every girl in school. He would never be able to get a date."

"He's not allowed to date until we're dead." Dwayne assured me. He ruffled my hair and kissed my cheek. I flushed and looked down. He always seemed to focus in on our age difference when he did that.

"Dwayne?" I asked him softly.

"What is it, baby?" Dwayne asked me.

"Do you care about the fact that we're over ten years apart?" I allowed my eyes to flicker up to his face, before I looked down at Michael. The little cutie-pie had actually fallen asleep.

"I've never been bothered by the fact that we're over ten years apart, baby. I love you for _you_, not for your age. You can't help it when you were born." Dwayne said with a smirk.

I fell silent for a minute. I looked down at Michael and slowly started to fuss with the hat on his little head. That woke him up. He sniffled and looked like he was about to cry, but I leaned down and kissed his little head. He blinked at me with tears in his pretty blue eyes. I started to softly hum to him, just like I would do when Liam was a little baby. He wheezed at me, before his cry turned into a chuckle.

"I love you, Johnny. And I love Liam and Michael too. You're my family now and we all have to stick together. I want you and the kids in my life forever." Dwayne told me.

I felt tears start to form in my eyes as I nodded. "I want the same."

* * *

The next five years of our lives went by in a flash. There were birthdays, holidays, deaths, and births. Hunter and Steph had two more children. I watched my two little boys grow older. Thankfully, Michael didn't develop any life-threatening disabilities because of his premature birth. Instead, he only had a minor case of asthma that really kicked up during allergy season. But I always had his rescue inhaler in my back pocket.

We bought a beach house down in Tampa, where we would spend our Christmas break and our summers. I kept in constant contact with Phil and Jeff, who were now the proud parents of triplets. I felt bad for whoever moved into the townhouse next door to them. We visited each other often. And, occasionally, we even had a visit from Cody and Ted. After several failed attempts, they were finally pregnant as well.

Life was good. It's always like that before the storm. But that is far from the end of the story. After five years, we now had a son in kindergarten and a son in pre-kindergarten. I had now graduated from the local university and had moved on to medical school. It was over that summer that I got pregnant for the third and final time. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon. What was in store for our future? Only time could tell.


	23. Dean's Birth

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam, Michael, and Dean.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

I had one more child on December 24th at 5:17 AM. His name was Dean Xavier Johnson.

The first day that he was home, Liam and Michael wouldn't leave his crib. They didn't seem to understand what a baby was. Instead, they were convinced that he was some kind of alien from another universe. Liam had convinced Michael that they had to sleep in shifts to make sure that the alien wouldn't come and suck their brains out while they slept. Michael, the sweet innocent boy that he was, believed every word of it.

After a week, both boys were totally exhausted. Michael wouldn't let Liam sleep because he was afraid that the 'alien' would come and suck his brother's brain out while he was asleep. What had first been amusing had quickly become old. They both had to return to school in three days and I wouldn't have them pass out in class. So, in the middle of one of their conversations about their 'alien' brother, I intervened.

"Liam, Michael, do you realize that it's almost 3:00 AM? Why are you two still awake?" I asked them calmly, my arms crossed over my chest. Both of the boys looked at me tiredly, but innocently.

"We can't sleep because the alien will come and suck our brains out, Mommy." Michael told me tearfully. He seemed to be on the brink of a temper tantrum.

"And what makes you think that Dean is an alien?" I asked them, one eyebrow raised.

"He has a name?" Liam seemed shocked. "That doesn't matter. It is a weird little odd creature, like the aliens in my comic books. He can't really be our brother. Our brother was abducted by aliens and they left _him_ behind."

Michael's eyes widened fearfully. "Do you think that the aliens will come back and take me? Mommy, don't let them hurt me!" Michael started to scream and cry, which woke Dean.

I rolled my eyes. "That's enough, Liam. You're scaring Michael." I turned to my middle son, who sniffled and buried his face in my leg. "Michael, there is no such thing as aliens. Dean is a baby. He was in my belly for months."

Michael poked my stomach. "In here?"

I nodded. "Yep. That's where you and Liam came from too."

I picked up Michael and cradled him into my side, before I walked over to the crib and allowed him to drape his little body over the side. He looked down at the little body of his baby brother. Dean Xavier was a tiny baby, only four pounds and three ounces. He had mocha colored eyes and a thin crop of sandy brown hair. In that way, he took a little bit after his oldest brother Liam, but neither Dwayne nor I.

Once Michael had seen Dean, I set him down on the floor and picked up Liam. Liam had recently turned seven and he was a little bit too big to be carried, but he would never be too old to be my little boy. I used both of my arms to lower him down over the side of the crib and he beheld his baby brother as well. The little baby had tears in his eyes from when Michael woke him, but he hadn't started to cry.

"Now," I set Liam down onto the floor. "Do you see that you're brother is totally normal? He's just a little baby. He hasn't been abducted by aliens and he _isn't_ an alien. Okay?"

Liam and Michael nodded reluctantly. "Yes, Mommy. We understand."

"Good." I set a hand on both of their backs and led them toward the door. "Now, I want both of you to head to your bedroom and go to bed. I'll be in in a minute to read you a story."

"Can I pick out the story this time?" Michael asked hopefully.

Liam frowned and swatted his brother on the back of his head. "No, dummy. You got to pick the story last time. It's my turn!" He pouted childishly.

"Originally, I would have said that you two could both agree on a story. However, that was before you hit your brother. You know better than that, Liam. Just for that, Michael gets to pick the story. Now, apologize to your brother." I said.

Liam looked at Michael, who had tears in his eyes and was sniffling weakly. "You're such a little baby."

"That doesn't sound like an apology, mister." I hissed. I really wasn't in the mood.

"Fine." Liam looked to me, before he turned to Michael and rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry that I hit you. There, is that better?" He huffed.

"That's the best I'm gonna get." I sighed.

Liam stuck his tongue out at Michael and both ran off to find a story for me to read them. I went downstairs and fixed myself a cup of coffee, before I went upstairs and sat down on Michael's bed, which was the bottom bunk. I set the coffee down on the bedside table and took the book from Liam's hands. Both of the boys were stretched out next to each other, just like they normally were when it was time for a story.

When they finally fell asleep, I tucked them both in and put the book down underneath the bed. I finished off my coffee and went back downstairs, where I had several class assignments that I still needed to take care of, as well as some managerial stuff for the bar. I was now the sole owner of the bar and I needed to take care of a lot of paperwork to make sure it continued to be in running order. Life was hard, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

* * *

_"John, I believe that you will want to see this."_

_The doctor held up a newspaper article. It read that five convicts, possibly associated with the Boston mob, had escaped from prison…_


	24. Murder

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone, other than Liam, Michael, and Dean.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Drug Use, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, Rape, Mpreg, etc.

* * *

For Dean's first birthday, we invited the entire family over.

"You have a really lady killer here, John. Just look at that adorable little face." Steph cooed at the little baby. "You'll have to keep the women off of your doorstep."

I smiled at the compliment. "Oh, he's like that with everyone. I think it's because he's the baby in the family and everyone wants to spoil him rotten. He already has so many clothes; he hasn't worn all of them yet."

Steph chuckled. "All of our daughters are the same way. I think it's like, a disease or something, that when you go into a store and shop for a baby, you have to buy _everything_. You can't just buy one outfit."

"Evidence – the humongous stack of clothes on the kitchen table that we have no place for." I motioned to all the newly purchased baby clothes on the table. "Case and point."

Steph smiled and nodded. "Exactly."

I was about to say more, but Dean started to fuss. I excused myself and walked over to the birthday boy, who sat in his swing on the far side of the room. It looked like he had just become a little overloaded from all of the attention, because as soon as I was in his line of vision, he sniffled and looked at me with his watery mocha-colored eyes. And then, my sweet little baby broke out in a smile and stretched his arms out so that I would pick him up.

How could I refuse such a request? I cradled him in my arms and walked around with him, showing him off to all of our family. The only ones who couldn't make it where Phil and Jeff. Poor Phil, being pregnant _again_. From the way he sounded on the phone, I was sure that he was about to murder Jeff. They already had five children, three of which were still in diapers. At this rate, they would need more room in their house. And more money. _A lot_ more money.

I would introduce him to everyone as we walked around. He would flash them an innocent, childish, toothy smile (most of his teeth hadn't come in yet, but the few that he did have stuck out awkwardly in his almost entirely pink mouth) and they would melt like butter. Finally, we arrived at where Ted and Cody sat. Cody slowly rocked his own bright pink stroller back and forth, where their daughter slumbered peacefully.

"Dean, these are your Uncles. The blond one on the left is Ted, and the brunette is Cody. Do you want to say hi to them?" I looked at Dean, who chewed on his bottom lip with his nonexistent teeth.

"Da." Dean cried out, before he broke down into fits of baby chuckles. It was too cute for words.

"Would you mind holding him for a minute? It's time for his bottle and I have to go into the kitchen and warm it up for him." At the mention of his bottle (or 'baba' as he liked to call it), his eyes lit up.

"Not at all." Ted stretched his arms out to take Dean from me. Cody looked on, a conflicted look on his face. I could almost see the wheels as they turned in his head.

"Would you mind if… Could I… Can I hold him?" Cody asked. His lisp was more pronounced and his eyes were wide with the fear that he had somehow overstepped his welcome.

"You want to hold him?" I looked over at Cody, somewhat surprised at his offer.

"If you don't want me too, then I totally understand. I just wanted to ask, because…"

Before he could say another word, I handed Dean over to him and set the little boy in his lap. "I think he likes you." Dean smiled up at him and laughed when Cody bounced him on his knee.

"Thank you." Cody said softly. I could also see how Ted silently said it with his body language.

"Not a problem." I smiled, before I left to fix up that bottle I had promised.

I had realized earlier that we were out of formula and, in a frenzy with all of the party preparations, had asked Steph to run down to Acme and buy some for me. Now, if only I knew where she had put it. Ah! It was on the counter, next to the cake. I cracked the seal on it and used the little spoon to dish out the right amount of formula, before I mixed it with warm water and tested the temperature on my wrist. It was perfect.

When I came back out, everyone had huddled around Cody to admire the little baby. Remarkably, Dean wasn't fussing about it. Normally, he wasn't one for large crowds of people. He was only calm when either Dean or I held him. It was a memorable feat to have Cody hold Dean and Dean be totally calm, his eyes half lidded as all of the women patted his little head or tickled his tiny feet.

I made my way over to Cody and handed him the bottle. "Do you want to feed him?"

Cody nodded. "Sure."

And just like that, Cody and I built a silent understanding. Cody wasn't interested in Dwayne anymore. He had his own daughter and a happy (most of the time) relationship with Ted. But that didn't mean that he couldn't still try and be friends with Dwayne. He wanted to make up for all the shitty stuff that he and his father had done over the many years since Summer's death and I could understand that. I wanted Dwayne to be happy. For now, Cody could stay.

* * *

The next birthday to come was Michael's. He turned seven on Valentine's Day.

That was another extremely hectic birthday. There were first graders all over my house, ill-mannered and some of them, somehow, not yet potty-trained. I didn't understand that one, but I didn't comment on it. At the end of the day, all that mattered was the fact that Michael was happy. Of course, I wasn't too pleased about the fact that my house was wrecked. Several hours of cleaning lay ahead for me.

And then, after that, there was Liam. He turned eight over the summer. His birthday was a little bit easier. We held the party down at our beach house, which meant that there would be less guests (in other words, less hassle). He still received a decent amount of presents and we had a lot of fun trying to get them to all fit in the car – not. But, in the end, it was another year that went by with everyone happy and healthy. You couldn't beat that.

* * *

I think that I fell into a routine. Slowly, over the next seven years, I was able to spend less and less time with my family. After several years of hard work, I managed to pass my test at medical school and I became a resident at Cameron Teaching Hospital. Often, I would sleep at the hospital and never make it home for the hot meal that Dwayne had prepared for me. And when I wasn't at the hospital, I was at the bar.

Maybe it was difficult for my children to be without me. I can't say for certain, because I honestly don't know. I rarely ever talked to Dwayne, and when I did, it wasn't about the kids. When we would talk, it would be to fight over the fact that I hadn't been home in three days. It would be about the fact that he missed me and wanted me to come home. It killed me inside that I couldn't do that for him.

The one time, I had a chance to talk to Liam. He told me that he hated me because I was never around and that he felt like I didn't love him because I never showed him that I cared. I was totally speechless. How could my little boy, my reason for living, think that I didn't love him? He was fourteen years old at the time. Immediately thereafter, I asked for time off from my supervisor. I received it two weeks later.

I was able to come home, and I mean _really_ come home, then. But I should have known better. Just when life was swinging back to normal, reality hit like a ton of bricks. I came home that first night to find all of the lights off in the middle of the day. That in itself was unusual, because Liam was usually home from school by now and Dwayne would be pulling in from work. Nonetheless, I continued to move forward.

"Guys, I'm home!" I called out. No answer. Confused, but not really concerned, I flipped the lights on and felt my heart leap into my chest. "Oh my God!"

There, in a perfect row, lay my husband and my three precious boys. It smelled like they had been there for several hours. They had sustained multiple wounds and had several slashes across their necks. Immediately, I fell down beside my youngest and tried to revive him. His beautiful eyes stared at me lifelessly, so full of pain and fear. I have never been able to wipe that look from my memory.

Kofi, the man who lived across the street from Dwayne and I, stormed into the house when he heard my screaming. He pulled me off of my bleeding children and tried to talk some sense into me, but I wouldn't hear it. He didn't understand. He didn't understand that these boys were all I had, and now here they were, lying on their backs with blood splatter everywhere. My stomach turned and I vomited into a nearby trashcan.

Kofi dialed 911. "Yes, I need help immediately. There's been a murder. Four victims. It looks like a father and his three sons. Their throats were slashed and they have multiple stab wounds. I checked for a pulse. There wasn't one."

"No!" I cried out. While Kofi was on the phone, I crawled back over to my older boys. It looked like they had died trying to defend Dean. I picked up Dean's body and held it close, not caring that blood was smearing all over me.

"John, you have to put the body back down. If this really is a homicide, then you could be tampering with the evidence." Kofi told me.

"I need to hold my baby. Can't you see that he's scared? He needs to know that his Mommy is here for him." I mumbled. I turned to Dean, who continued to stare at me lifelessly. "Mommy will never leave you again. I promise."

"John?" Kofi asked. It must be scary to see someone slowly unravel before your eyes.

"I'm sorry that Mommy wasn't here to defend you, baby. But Mommy is here now and he won't let anyone else hurt you." I assured him. "Did you hear that, Liam, Michael? Mommy is here now."

I sat there and held them, even after the paramedics arrived. I didn't even want to let them have their bodies, because they weren't dead. They lied to me and told me that they weren't there with me anymore. Finally, the woman told me that they wanted to help make my babies better. That was when I handed Dean over to her and asked her if he could be saved. She looked at him slowly, knew that he was dead, and told me that they would do their best.

One paramedic turned his attention to the wall. "What is that?" There was a note written in blood.

_You think that we're done with you, Johnny? This was only the start. We haven't forgotten about you. Your are ours and nobody else is allowed to have you. Not even your own sons._


	25. Interlude to Part B

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Mental Disorders, Rape, Mob Influence, Murder, etc.

* * *

In the first month after the murder, after the crime scene was analyzed to death, I had the house demolished.

I didn't want to believe that my husband and my sons were killed. In fact, I had convinced myself that all of the officers were liars. The medical team, the lawyers, the newscasters… they were all liars. I had left that life behind me. I had left the _mob_ behind me. My brothers were cruel, but they couldn't be so heartless as to kill an innocent little boy, could they? I asked myself that over and over, but the answer was always the same. They were _dead_.

After that, I had a mental breakdown and was committed to a local mental hospital for an evaluation. The doctor that I was assigned to was Dr. Amy Dumas, a psychiatrist who specialized in helping families after they suffered an incredible loss. I tried to tell her that there wasn't a loss. I tried to tell her that my boys and my husband were at home and that they would expect me any time now. She only smiled at me and led me to my room.

"I don't understand why I'm here." I confided in her. I felt kind of silly for being so insecure, but after this whole situation, I wasn't sure who I could trust anymore.

"You're here because your husband and your sons were murdered. I want you to come to terms with that. Here is a journal." Dr. Dumas handed a small, spiral bound notebook to me. "I want you to write down your story in here."

"Why?" I looked at her, confused. What story did I have to tell?

Dr. Dumas continued to smile. "Maybe you're not ready to admit to their deaths out loud. Maybe you're not ready to tell me your story. I understand that. Just tell it to the journal. The journal can't judge you for how you feel."

I sniffled and looked at her uncertainly. "I don't want to feel anymore."

"We are here to help you, Mr. Johnson. We want to make you better." Dr. Dumas said.

"I don't want to be better if I can't be with my family." I told her. I felt like I was about to be sick. Vivid visions of blood flashed behind my eyes and I felt a wave of nausea overtake me. "I don't want to live."

"It'll get better, John. Sooner than you think, you'll be back on your feet and all of this will be a horrible memory." Dr. Dumas patted my shoulder. "Dinner is in two hours. We hope to see you down there."

She said that like I actually had a choice. When she left my 'bedroom', she locked it from the outside. Slowly, I walked over to my bed and sat down. I took out the only picture that I was allowed to bring with me – the only thing that I was allowed to keep with me – a picture of Dwayne and I, with Liam, Michael, and Dean. I took out my journal and, with the pen that was tucked into the spiral binding, started to write.

_I never had a chance. It's like all other beauty in this cruel world. Sooner or later, it's destroyed by the darkness._

* * *

_You think that we're done with you, Johnny? This was only the start. We haven't forgotten about you. You are ours and nobody else is allowed to have you. Not even your own sons._

It took me three years, but I finally did it. I wrote down my entire story thus far. Dr. Dumas was pleased by my progress. She told me that I had made significant strides toward a better future and would be released within the week. I was thankful that I would finally be able to return to my life. I couldn't wait to meet with my friends. There was so much time that I had missed and I needed to be with them.

For the first time in several weeks, I took out the picture of Dwayne and the boys. I didn't cry anymore when I looked at it. Dr. Dumas said that my emotions were more stable now that I was on an anti-depressant and an anti-psychotic medication. I didn't feel the same rush of emotion that I always did when I looked at the photo. Now, I just felt an empty hole in the pit of my stomach. My boys were dead and I was all alone.

While I was a patient in the hospital, I discovered that my brothers and my father had escaped from prison. They were currently in hiding in Boston, living it up while I swept up the broken pieces of my life. I had been sexually assaulted a number of times by one of my doctors, a man by the name of Dr. Lesnar, and I didn't have the will to fight him off. I didn't have confidence in my body or the way that I looked anymore, now that Dwayne had died.

Dr. Dumas walked into the room, that same smile on her face. "Mr. Johnson, you're ride is here." She informed me. I rose off of the bed, dressed in my new clothes, and took the picture off of the bed – it was still my only possession.

"Thank you for all that you've done for me." I told her honestly. "I know that I wasn't the best patient, but you stuck by me and really helped me to receive the care that I needed."

Dr. Dumas shook her head. "It's all in a day's work. I'm just extremely thankful that you're better now. You can find Mr. DiBiase Jr. out in front of the hospital. He's in the shiny black Sudan. It's kind of hard to miss him."

"Thank you again." I said, sincerely.

She smiled and ushered me out of the room. "Not a problem, Mr. Johnson. Not a problem."


	26. A Brand New Start

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash

* * *

"We wanted to take you out to dinner to celebrate your recent release." Ted told me with a radiant smile. "Kofi and Phil threw a few cents in as well, so you wouldn't have to even _think_ about the cost."

I forced a small smile. Even if this _was_ all extremely nice of them, it was still a little bit awkward. "You really didn't have to do that. But thank you for it. It is nice to be out with my friends after so much time in that room."

Ted nodded. "We just want you to feel at home. And if it becomes too much for you, let us know. We don't want to rush you into a corner." Ted said. "Look, we are already at the restaurant."

I looked around. Phil, Jeff, and Kofi were there. However, Cody wasn't. "Where's Cody?" I asked.

Ted shrugged. "I think he said that he had to pick up his friend Randy at the airport. You wouldn't mind if he joined us, would you?" Ted asked nonchalantly.

"No." I shook my head. "What is he like?"

"In four words?" Ted asked. "An Ex-Marine with PTSD."

"He sounds like a real winner." I said as I climbed out of the car and followed Ted into the restaurant and over to the table that had been reserved for us. "Tell me, is he at least nice?"

"He's… tolerable. He suffers from IED, which is directly related to his PTSD. But he has several techniques that he has learned to be able to handle it better. He should be fine today." Ted assured me.

Kofi, Phil, and Jeff all wandered over to our table and sat down. The waitress came over after a few minutes and asked if everyone had arrived. Ted explained to her that we were still waiting for his husband and his husband's friend, but that we would like to order our drinks and place our orders for our dinner. She accepted that and brought two more chairs over to the table for when they finally arrived.

Next, she took our orders for our drinks and our dinners. We decided to split an appetizer of sixteen hot wings between the four of us while we waited. Kofi ordered water and a chicken salad. Phil ordered a Diet Pepsi and a medium rare steak with a side order of fries. Jeff looked at him like he was an overgrown child, before he ordered a 7-Up with chicken and fries (off the kid's menu). Ted had a Coke and baby-back ribs. I ordered water and a salad.

Once the waitress disappeared, Cody and Randy arrived at the restaurant. Cody looked totally out of breath and exhausted. For the first time in all the years that I had known him, I could see the true effects of the drugs that he had done. It reflected in his eyes and in the way that he carried himself. Randy followed closely behind him. When I saw him, my heart leaped into my throat and I could've sworn that I had died then and there.

"Sorry that I'm so late." Cody said breathlessly. "I had to find a babysitter and Randy's flight was delayed and all that other shit. But I'm here now and so is Randy, so…"

Ted pulled out the chair for his husband, which left the chair at the other end of the table – next to me, of course – available for Randy. "Randy, this is John. John, this is Randy." Ted introduced us.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, John." Randy told me in his totally drool-worthy southern drawl.

"It's nice to meet you as well." I told him with a smile.

I could tell that Randy was interested in me. Just from the way that he looked me over, well, it was like I was a piece of meat. I was attracted to him too, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to make that kind of commitment. Besides, I didn't know Randy all that well. From what Ted had told me, he had just about as many problems as I did. But could I really open myself up like that, when there was a chance that they could be taken away from me?

Our food arrived and we started to eat. Meanwhile, Randy and Cody ordered their own food. I didn't eat fast because I wasn't really all that interested in the food before me. The last meal that I had had in a group like this was when I had had my last dinner with my boys and Dwayne. Dean was still a little baby and Michael and Liam were just starting school. That was the last dinner that we had had as a family. Randy and Cody's dinner arrived a few minutes later.

"Oh, John." I turned to Ted. "I wanted to tell you that AJ took over the bar after you left. She said that you are welcome to take it back whenever you feel that you are up to the task."

"That was extremely nice of her." I told him.

"And Jeff and I have talked about it. You're welcome to stay with us until you're able to be back on your feet." Phil told me. Jeff started to choke on his food and Phil shot him a look.

I shook my head. "You really don't have to do that. I know that you have a lot of work with the twins and the triplets. I don't want you to have to worry about me too."

"You're not a worry. You're a friend." Phil clarified.

Jeff looked at me sheepishly. "He won't take 'no' for an answer, so it's easier to just tell him you'll stay with us."

I chuckled. "Okay. I'll stay with you for a little while. But only until I'm able to get back on my feet."

Phil nodded. "Of course. Do you think that you will stay in Cameron or maybe you'll hit the road and move to a different town or state?"

"I don't know yet." I shrugged. "I'll move wherever the wind blows me. But for now, I'm happy to be in Cameron. It's still my home, whether I have a house to live in or not."

* * *

But it wouldn't be my home for very long. I moved from Cameron to Charlotte three months later, where I rented an apartment in the attic of Barbie Blanc's house. Yes, the same woman that has had a crush on me ever since I started to work at the gym. She was more than happy to offer the attic to me. She didn't want to charge me, but I had insisted. I wanted to make my own way. Now, I paid her two hundred dollars a month.

I'm sure that she wondered what had become of my handsome husband and my three beautiful boys, but she must've sensed that it was a difficult part of my life and she didn't ask me about it. I was thankful for that. Every day, I made the difficult commute from Charlotte to Cameron, where I would work at the bar on the weekend and at the gym every day of the week. I made decent money, but it still wasn't the kind of money that I needed to buy a house.

However, wherever I went, Randy was there. Sadly, it kind of reminded me of how Dwayne would come for me at work and how he would show up whenever I needed someone to talk to. I had become friends with Randy. In fact, I found out that he also lived in Charlotte – across the street, no less. I didn't want to feel like I had overstayed my welcome with Barbie, so I moved across the street and rented out Randy's spare bedroom.

One morning, Randy made both of us breakfast. It always seemed like he had money to burn, but I never saw him work. It was an odd conundrum. "Morning, Ran."

"G'morning, John." Randy slurred. He looked like he was ready to head back to bed. His blue eyes watched as a pancake flipped into the air.

"How are you today?" I asked. Like I said, we had become excellent friends over the last few months. He wasn't extremely talkative, but…

"Good. I didn't sleep all that well. I told Cody that I would babysit their daughter for the day. You don't mind if she comes over, do you?" He asked.

"No." I shook my head, before I smiled sadly. "I love kids."

Randy nodded. "When will you be home from work? I was thinking that maybe we could go out to dinner? That, and the fact that I have to shop for more food and I don't feel like it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Would this be a date?"

"Only if you want it to be a date." Randy clarified.

I smiled at him. "A date it is, then."


	27. Back to Nowhere

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Mental Disorders, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, etc.

* * *

I studied my reflection in the mirror. I felt nervous nausea in the bottom of my stomach.

It had been three and a half years since my husband and three sons had been brutally murdered at the hands of my father and brothers. Since then, I hadn't so much as _looked_ at another man, let alone felt any kind of romantic inclination toward one. And now, all of a sudden, I was about to have a date? What the _hell_ had I been thinking? Oh, that's right. I _hadn't_ been thinking! Randy was totally hot and he did things to my brain that should be illegal and…

No, I can't think like that. I mean, after all, if this date totally bombs, I still have to live with the man, don't I? Now that I think about it, this was a really_, really_ stupid idea. But don't they say that hindsight is 20/20? I shook my head as I continued to nitpick at my reflection. I looked like a freaking buffoon! However, someone that was thinking rationally most likely would have said that I looked… cute. Oh God, this was going to be awful!

Just as I was about to burn all of my clothes and start fresh, there was a knock at my door. My heart beat frantically in my chest. I knew exactly who it was. That was why I didn't want to answer it. If Randy saw me like this, he would _never_ want to take me out in public! I fussed over my reflection frantically. Finally, after several more minutes of confusion, there was another knock on the door. It really couldn't wait, then.

I plastered my best smile on my face and walked over to the door. Just as I was about to reach for the handle, an idea came to me. I ruffled up my hair and tried to make myself look disheveled. "Hello?" I croaked.

Randy had a smile on his face, but it fell when he heard how horrible I sounded. "Wow, Johnny. You… um… You don't look too hot. Do you feel sick?" Randy asked, his concern evident.

This was my ticket out of hell! I just had to ride the wave and see where it took me. "Yeah. I think that I've been brewing something for awhile, but it all kind of manifested today."

"That's a shame. I was actually really looking forward to tonight." Did Randy actually sound… dejected?

"I'm really sorry." And I was. Really. "Maybe we could reschedule?" Where the hell did that come from?

But Randy shook his head. "No, that's fine. I don't want to corner you into something. We'll talk when you feel better, okay?" Randy asked. I nodded weakly. This man made me weak in the knees.

Silently, I thanked him for being so understanding. "Well, then. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Randy nodded affirmatively. "Tomorrow."

I closed the door softly as I watched him walk away. I felt like such a loser. Seriously, who got so nervous for a date that they pretended to be sick so that they could cancel? Okay, well maybe that was a bad example. I don't know. I really don't know anymore. All I know is that I was so excited for this date earlier in the week. And then, somehow, someway, I couldn't even stand to look at my reflection in the mirror anymore.

I walked over to my bed and threw myself face-first onto the mattress. Why did life have to have such a vendetta against me? While I was never one to pull the woe-is-me card, I think that now would be as appropriate of a time as any. Why did _I_ have to be the one whose father was a mob boss? Why did _I _have to be the one who lost his three sons and his husband? Why did _I_ have to be a chicken and back out of a date that I actually _wanted_ to go on?

I rolled over in bed and buried my face into my pillow. I screamed, thankful that it muffled the sound. The last thing that I needed was for Randy to run in here and be my knight in shining armor. "I hate my life…"

* * *

"Did you see that new ravenette that Randy's been hanging out with? I think that his name is Wade Barrett. He's a boxer from Manchester." Ted told me one day as I scrubbed down the bar.

"I think that I may have heard the name before, but I don't know for sure." I tried to brush it off. Really, I didn't want to think about the fact that I had essentially lied to Randy and lost my only chance at a date with him.

"It looks like the two of them may be serious." Ted continued on nonchalantly, unaware of how much this conversation was hurting me. "Wade kissed him in public."

"So?" I raised an eyebrow and tried to make it seem like I didn't care, but Ted could see through my façade.

"You're jealous, aren't you? What, did the date that you two had not work out?" Ted asked.

I shook my head and looked away. He was about to apologize, but I shot him down before he could. "There was never a date to begin with. I chickened out and cancelled at the last minute."

Ted frowned. "It's normal to be nervous, John. You haven't been on a date since Dwayne and you're afraid to let anyone that close to your heart. You don't want it to be broken."

"I lied to him and told him that I was sick." John mumbled under his breath.

Ted almost choked on his martini. "And he believed you?"

"Don't sound so surprised. I can pull off sick if I want to."

"Look, John. I know that this may not be the words that you want to hear. But I'm not here to tell you what you _want_ to hear. I'm here to tell you what you _need_ to hear." Ted said.

I stopped, throwing the dish towel over my shoulder and putting my hands on my hips. "And what would that be, exactly? What exactly do I _need_ to hear?"

"That day, when we went out to dinner, Randy came over to me and asked me about you. I told him that you had been through a lot – I didn't tell him the whole story, I only left it vague – and he said that he wanted to get to know you better. He's liked you for awhile, John."

I rolled my eyes and tried to pretend like I didn't believe him, like it didn't matter. But really, the excitement shined on my face. "He does?"

Ted nodded. "He wants to be with you, John. He wants to help you. But he can't do that if you don't let him."

I tried to let Ted's words sink in, but it was still so difficult to believe. Why would anyone want to help me? My entire life, I had been alone. From bastard brothers to an abusive father, I hadn't really known what love was until Dwayne came around. And now that Dwayne was gone… maybe I wasn't afraid to love, but afraid of betraying Dwayne by loving someone other than him? I don't know. I've given up on trying to understand how I think.

My eyes flickered up and I took in Randy and Wade on the other side of the bar. They were laughing and joking, tossing back drinks like old buddies that had known each other their whole lives. Maybe that was the secret. Maybe, to reevaluate myself, I needed to head back to the basics and remember where I had come from. That wasn't West Newbury, Mass. That was the middle of Nowhere, with a population so small that it didn't even make it on the map.

I needed to head back to the McMahons.


	28. The Girl Named Tabatha

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Violence, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

"John Cena!" I heard my name and could barely contain a smile as Steph raced over to me and threw her arms around me. "I feel like it's been forever! What has it been now? Three years?"

I nodded. "At least." I looked around the bar. "It looks like you've remodeled. I have to say, I like what you've done around here. It feels so… homey."

"I should hope so, after all of the work that Dad and Shane put in to fix the place up. Take a seat. I'll fix you a drink." Steph motioned to one of the many bar stools that faced a wide-screen television.

"Oh, I can't… I can't mix alcohol with my anti-depressant medication." I told her weakly, almost embarrassed.

Steph just brushed it off. "I was only gonna make us some root beer floats. You think that you can handle that?"

I smiled, comforted in knowing that she understood what was on my mind without me having to voice it. "Yes. Thank you." I sat down and waited for my drink.

Once Steph had finished, she slid the tall cup over to me. "There you are, sir."

I took a sip and relished in the sweet taste. "Thank you."

We sat in silence for several minutes as we ate our respective root beer floats. I was starved from the ten hour drive over from North Carolina, not that I would ever admit that out loud. If I did make the mistake of voicing that to Steph, she wouldn't waste any time in forcing the food down my throat. To be honest, I was totally satisfied by the root beer float. The last time that I had had ice cream… I couldn't even remember. That was sad. It really was.

Just then, I heard the little bell over the door to signal that a customer had arrived. That was weird. I could've sworn that I had seen Steph turned the 'Open' sign to 'Closed' when she saw me. But I shook it off as I watched Steph excuse herself. Most likely, it was a babysitter for the kids or one of the new employees that they had taken on. Steph didn't seem too worried about it, so I wouldn't be.

But then, I heard _his_ voice. The voice that made me weak in the knees. Randy was here. But why? I could still remember the conversation that I had had with Ted vividly – Randy had chosen to be with Wade, Wade made him happy. So why would he follow me here, all the way to Nowhere? But then, I shook my head. That was a little conceited, wasn't it? To think that the only reason he was here was for me.

"Why don't you take a seat at the bar next to John? I'll fix you something to drink." Steph smiled at him, before she went over to the counter. "You look like a man that likes his liquor. How about some brandy?"

Randy smirked and I felt my heart skip a beat. "That would be perfect. Thanks." And then, like he felt me staring at him, he slowly turned to face me. "Hello, John."

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. Reminding myself that I was a full-grown man and fluent in the English language, I smiled at him. "Hello, Randy. What brings you here to the middle of Nowhere?"

Steph slid the brandy in his direction and he shot her a thankful smile. "Actually? You."

I blinked dumbly, like I was unable to comprehend his words. "Me?"

Steph looked between us, before she offered a bashful smile. "I think I'll just leave you two to it, then."

I almost wanted to scream after her, I was so desperate for her to stay. But I didn't. I remained as calm as I could as I watched her strut off in the other direction, leaving me alone with the man that haunted both my dreams and my nightmares. Randy downed his brandy in one smooth swallow, but luckily Steph had left the bottle at his disposal. He poured himself some more, all the while looking at me in anticipation.

What could I say to him? How could I even look at him after I had backed out of our date like that? By now, he must realize that I had just backed out of the date and that I wasn't really sick. However, he didn't look mad… I don't know. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. All I know is that I had backed out of our date, and not two weeks later, he was with another man. If that was how he would treat me, like some kind of toy, I wanted no part in it.

Randy cleared his throat. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned to him. "I talked with Ted." He started. "He said that you were really upset when you saw Wade and I the other day. And that confused me, because…"

I didn't allow him a chance to finish. "I know, I know. We never actually had our date, so what right did I have to be jealous of some other man that you were with?" I rambled, my voice barely audible to my own ears.

"Actually, that's not what I wanted to say." Randy stated calmly. He sipped at his brandy nonchalantly.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "Well, then. Do tell what is on your mind."

"Ted told me that you were nervous about the date and that's why you cancelled. And I said no, that couldn't be, because you wouldn't lie to me. He assured me it was. I want to know the truth, John." Randy said.

"What truth?" I choked out.

"I want an honest answer out of you." Randy clarified.

"There is no truth left in the world." I told him carefully. At least, that was my experience.

He raised an eyebrow, "What was that supposed to mean? Of course there is still truth in the world! You want the truth out of me, just to see for yourself? I care about you, John. I want to be with you, but I can't read your mind."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I shot back, insulted. I wasn't insulted with _what_ he had said, no. Actually, I was touched that he cared so much about me. It was _how_ he had said it that crawled underneath my skin.

"I can't read your mind. I think that you want me to be able to tell what you're thinking about without having to ask, but I can't do that. I need you to help me." Randy said.

"Oh." I said. I tried not to let my voice sink, but it did.

Another awkward silence fell between us. Randy swirled the brandy around in his glass, before he threw caution to the wind and swallowed it back. He slammed the glass down onto the table and poured himself some more, before he stared at the drink a little longer. Randy looked at a drink the same way that Dwayne did. He analyzed it, he scrutinized it, and finally, he drank it. I couldn't help but smile at the memory it summoned.

I knew what I had to do, but I didn't really want to do it. I was so afraid that Randy would turn back, run out the door, and throw all of my stuff into the street. So many people had done that to me in the course of my life. In fact, I was certain that if I hadn't run away, my father would have realized that I wasn't straight (like I had lied to him and said that I was) and he would have kicked me to the curb. That, or he would have killed me.

But then, I realized that I had to be like Randy and his drinks. Stare at it for a little while, analyze it, scrutinize it, and then throw caution to the wind and drink it all down. So I turned to him and told him my story, starting with the minute where my mother died and I had ceased to exist. I told him that my father had abused me, my brothers had raped me, and that I had been an addict. I told them about my connection to the mob. Once you're in, you can never leave.

And when I was finished, he only stared at me. I couldn't read his stare, and I suddenly realized how awful he must have felt when I had just stared at him blankly. I couldn't read his mind. But it made me so nervous, I was almost sick to my stomach. About to excuse myself and make a mad dash for the bathroom, Randy suddenly leaned forward, took my face in his hands, and kissed me with such ferocity it made my head spin.

Randy's tongue swiped across my bottom lip and I allowed him entrance. Our tongues danced for a few minutes, before he pulled back and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Well?"

Breathless, I could only stare at him.

"You have quite the story. It took a lot of nerve to share that with me, not knowing how I would react to it. I like nerve. I like confidence. And I have a feeling that you have a raging, burning fire of it inside, just waiting to come out."

I blushed and looked away. "It's kind of hard to be confident when everyone is always so anxious to tell you how awful you are. I hated my life, Randy. At one point, I even…"

But Randy only shook his head. "No. You don't have to say it. You're not ready."

I blinked in shock. "How could you tell?"

"If you were ready, it would be on the tip of your tongue, just dying to be released. If you hesitate, you're not ready."

I smiled at him, thankful that somebody finally understood me. I had a feeling that Randy could understand me, even when I didn't tell him all that was on my mind. That was the kind of connection that I had always craved with Dwayne, but something was missing. Maybe it was the fact that I had never told him the entire truth about my family. Or maybe there was some secret that he was keeping from me. Now, I would never know for sure.

So, I told him about my three handsome boys. Dean, Michael, and Liam. Their names still rolled off of my tongue, almost as if they were still alive. Oh, how I wished that they were still with me! But I shook my head and told him how I had come home to find Dwayne and my three boys murdered, their throats slit and multiple stab wounds in their bodies. I told him that that was a darkness that I never thought that I would return from.

But then, Randy confided in me. I will never forget that moment, when he looked down solemnly at his brandy and told me about a little girl named Tabatha. When he had been in the war, he had been in the midst of a bloody battle that had almost come down to hand-to-hand combat. They had pushed the enemy back into their territory, but it was dangerous because there were too many civilians around. One of them was Tabatha.

Randy hadn't seen the child, who couldn't have been more than seven-years-old, until it was too late. His rifle had misfired and he had shot her in the head. His heart had broken and sank into a black oblivion as he watched her fall. The nervous breakdown that followed resulted in his medical discharge, and an impromptu stay in a padded room. He just couldn't erase her face from his mind, not even now.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we?" I asked with a wry, almost hesitant smile. "Can you accept my shortcomings and give me a try?" I continued.

Randy returned the smile. "Only if you can do the same for me."

I extended my hand and we shook on it. "I think that we have ourselves a deal."


	29. Kevin's Death

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Violence, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

All of a sudden, I was a lot more comfortable in my own skin when it came to Randy. I know that it may seem a little twisted, but know that I knew that he had his _own_ monsters in the closet; I didn't feel so bad about my own. And he always made sure to overtly show me that I never had to fear to be myself around him. Randy loved me the way that I was. Yes, he loved me. He told me that on our six-month-anniversary.

Oh, I don't know how so much time could pass so fast. It seemed like I blinked and it all flew by. But that's okay, because I was still in his arms and that was all that mattered. Slowly but surely, I could feel the bloody memories of that horrific night when I had walked in to find my husband and sons murdered be pushed to the back of my mind. Never to be forgotten, never, but I didn't think about it for every minute of the day anymore.

I could tell that my presence was a kind of therapy for Randy too. Ever since that day, he had never mentioned Tabatha. Instead, I could tell when she was on his mind by the way that the liquor would deplete in the cabinet. Randy wasn't a violent drunk, just an incredibly sad one. He would drink himself down into the doldrums and sleep it off, only to come out the next day with a much better outlook on life. But he did that less and less nowadays.

We hadn't actually had sex… no, made love… yet. Even if I had moved into his room a little under a month ago. We both agreed that it would be best to take it slow, get to know each other. Even if I didn't think about my husband and boys as much, they were still there and sometimes, it made me afraid to love. It made me afraid to open my heart, because I knew what could happen. I knew that Randy could die and it made me sick.

But that night, curled into Randy's side, my head on his chest, I felt that something was undeniably… different. I wasn't quite sure how to describe it, other than the fact that it was different and almost _ominous_. Again, I was reminded of the pain that I had felt in my heart before I had entered into my house and found them dead. But I could feel Randy's chest rise and fall beneath me. I could feel it and assured myself that it was real.

Sleep didn't come easily. I didn't think it would, as it never did. I swallowed down all of my fear and squeezed my eyes closed firmly. Randy would protect and defend me with his life – but that was exactly what I was afraid of. If Randy died, then I wanted to too. I don't think that I could handle it if another person left me because of my family. I just shook my head and buried my face further into his chest. No, sleep did not come easily.

* * *

I awoke with a start and immediately realized that Randy wasn't beside me. My eyes snapped open and I searched the darkness for his muscular, tattooed body, but was unable to locate him. Fear gripped my heart. What the hell? Why was it that all of my nightmares had to come true, all of my most vicious dreams had to become reality? But then, I heard a soft moan come from the doorway. Relief flooded me, because I knew that voice.

It was Randy. Randy stood in the doorway. But as he shifted around in the darkness, thanks to the dim light of the moon that came in from between the blinds, I could make out the form of another man. Randy had his arm wrapped around his neck, his fists connected off to one side in a rear-choke. The man grunted and writhed, when all of a sudden a gun fell out of his hand and clattered to the floor. It couldn't be…

"Randy…" I whispered. I didn't want to startle him, in case it would cause him to release the madman. Fortunately, it didn't. He turned to me with a sharp look.

"It looks like we had a little late-night visitor, Johnny-boy. Does he look familiar to you?" Randy loosened the choke a bit, but not enough to allow a lot of air to the man's brain, and flipped on the light.

I felt my heart skip a beat. Of course he looked familiar to me! How could I ever forget the face of my youngest brother, my tormentor, Kevin? "Kevin?" I asked in shock.

"Well, who the hell were you expecting Johnny? The Easter bunny?" Kevin must've thought that he was awfully funny, because he wasted a lot of air laughing. "Tell your toy soldier here to let me go."

I looked at him like he had grown a third head. "Why the hell should I do that? So you can shoot me?"

Kevin frowned. Obviously, he had been caught. "What makes you think that I came here to kill you, John?"

I motioned to the gun on the floor. "I think that that's a pretty good indicator."

Kevin rolled his eyes, but his face had started to turn an interesting shade of fuchsia. "Please. If I wanted you dead, I could have killed you by now. Both of you. Don't start to think that you're better than you are."

Who the hell did he think that he was kidding? I was fully aware of the fact that he could have killed us both and we would have been none the wiser. He had been caught because he _wanted_ to be. Kevin had always been my father's assassin, the enforcer. He was the best at killing and getting away with it, even with his hands stained a bloody red. For some reason, the cops just never looked at him.

But then I remembered Randy's experience with the military, how he had been trained to fight at even the smallest indication of violent tendencies. Yes, Kevin may have been the best assassin that my father could deal out, but Randy… Randy was something else. I watched as he took pleasure in cutting the air off from my brother's brain, and for the first time, I realized exactly what Kevin was. Kevin was the sacrificial lamb.

"Are you ready to die, Kevin?" Randy whispered in his ear. I looked at his eyes, his beautifully blue eyes, and saw that he had gone to that place that only he knew.

"You wouldn't kill me." Kevin scoffed. "You _couldn't_ kill me. I still mean something to Johnny. I'm a part of his life, whether he wants to admit it or not. He would _never_ let you kill me. He's too much of a goody-two-shoe."

Randy raised an eyebrow. He turned to me. "Johnny-boy? What's the decree?"

"You do realize that, if you release him, he'll turn around and kill you, right?" I shot back at him.

Randy nodded. "I kinda figured that that was obvious."

I looked between them, trying to think of the right thing to do. Was there even a right thing to do in this situation? Oh, I just didn't know… "I want you to…"

Kevin started to struggle in Randy's arms. "See! I told you that he would never let you kill me!"

Something about his cockiness made something awaken within me. I smirked at him. "Do whatever you want with him, Randy. Kill him. Torture him. Make him scream. He deserves all of that and so, _so_ much more."

Randy smirked, showing off his unnaturally long canines. "You know what, Johnny?"

I smiled. "What?"

"I don't think I have ever loved you as much as I do right now."

It was twisted and sick and oddly romantic. And, for some reason, all I could do was laugh. "You certainly are something else, Randy. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Kevin's eyes flickered madly between us, fear etched deeply into his irises. So, as it turned out, his baby brother had grown a set after all. No matter. He could take Randy. But as he turned around, breathless, he walked into a punch from Randy. I watched, mesmerized, as Randy threw blow after blow and struck the almost pliant, lifeless form of my older brother. And after all of it, I found that I really didn't care.

When Randy took hold of the gun, however, I had to turn away. I drew the covers up around me and buried my face in the pillow. Three shots later, and with a whine of a death rattle, Kevin died. Taking a deep, comforting breath, I heard Randy discard of the gun and climb into bed with me. He would worry about the dead body later. Right now, sleep was all that we cared about. And sleep came. Much easier than expected.

* * *

Randy handled all of the matters that followed Kevin's death. He called 911 early the next day, before I even woke up, and told them that he had had to kill a man in self-defense after he had come into the bedroom that he shared with his boyfriend with a gun. He clarified that he had shot him three times – once in the head, once in the neck, and one that nicked his shoulder. The dispatcher said that she would send an ambulance and a police car over.

When I came downstairs a half-hour later, the house was swarmed with cops and EMTs. I pulled my bathrobe a little tighter around me and looked around, confused. In the swarm of people and all of the hustle and bustle, I couldn't find Randy. But I _had_ stumbled across the bloody carpet in our bedroom. Once I had left, the cops had roped it off for the crime scene. Absently, I had wondered where we would sleep until the investigation was over.

"Mr. Cena!" I nearly jumped out of my skin when one of the cops chased after me as I went for my morning coffee. "I need to ask you a few questions in regard to the death of your brother, Kevin Nash."

I bit down on the inside of my mouth to keep back the biting comment, before I fixed myself some coffee. "How did you know that he was my brother? I left West Newbury and that life behind. He's _not_ my brother."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you." The officer raised her hands to show that she did not intend to offend me. I brushed it off. "I just need to ask you a few questions to confirm Mr. Orton's story."

I shrugged. Taking a sip of coffee, I answered, "Sure."

We sat down at the kitchen table, which seemed to be the only place in the entire house that wasn't swarmed with cops. It was nice, I reasoned. The rest of the house felt oddly claustrophobic with so many other people inside. I offered the officer a cup of coffee, since Randy hadn't come downstairs for his yet, but she kindly declined. Taking out a small pad of paper, she started to scribble down some notes.

"Is it true that the victim, Kevin Nash, came into the room with a gun and had intent to kill?" She asked.

I hadn't actually seen him come into the room, but I had no doubt that that was true. So I nodded. "Yes. I saw him come in with it. I was scared, but Randy handled it."

"Is it true that Randal Orton received military training and quite possibly had the intent to kill Kevin Nash?"

I shrugged. I didn't really care. "Yes, he was in the military. He was medically discharged, though. And if he did have intent to kill him, it was only in self-defense."

The woman nodded. "One last question." She stared into my eyes. "Did you want Kevin to die?"

I mused on it for a minute, before remembering that I couldn't lie to an officer. Finally, staring back at her without batting an eyelash, I said, "Yes."


	30. The Real Monster

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Violence, Mob Influence, Murder, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

"I love you so fucking much right now, I don't even know how to say it." I nuzzled my face into Randy's neck, surrounded by his warmth, safe and sound. Safe, for the first time since I could remember.

Randy's deep voice rumbled in his chest. A hearty chuckle bubbled to the surface and spilled past his lips. "I'm not sure if I should say 'I love you too' or if I should be worried about the fact that you love me because I killed someone."

"You didn't kill just anyone, Ran. You saved me from my brother. He would've killed us if you hadn't taken him out." I told him, feeling a tremor of fear chase down my spine. "I would be dead now if it wasn't for you."

Randy's smile fell as he shook his head. He smoothed a hand over my closely shaved head. "No, John. Don't talk like that. You know that I would never let anyone hurt you, don't you?"

I nodded. I nuzzled further into his chest. "Hey, Randy?" I asked.

"What is it, Johnny-boy?" Randy asked. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Promise me that you won't let them touch us. Promise me that you won't leave me, not like Dwayne did. Can you promise me that?" I asked, feeling a pang of fear in my chest.

Randy leaned down and kissed my forehead once more. "No worries, baby. I don't plan to leave anytime soon."

I only smiled and nodded. Even before the words left my mouth, I knew that that was one request that he could never swear to. Maybe it was in fate's cards that we would die tomorrow. Maybe my father would track us down and finally have his wicked way with me, to torture and tease and ridicule and _kill_ me. Because that was all that I ever was to my father. I was a doll, a toy. He never needed me. I had had colossal shoes to fill and I never quite measured up.

But with Randy, life was… different. I never felt like a bother to him. He was like my other half, the half that slowly mended the fragmented shards of my soul. With him, I finally felt as if the part of me that had vanished when my mother had died, that had been trampled by the abuse that I had endured at the hands of my father and brothers, had started to heal. And I knew that it was the same way for him, even if he would never admit to it out loud.

Randy's muscular arms secured around me and pulled me firmly into his chest. I knew from the minute that I rested my head there, that this was the place that I belonged. It was different than what I had felt with Dwayne. That had been carnal attraction, lust, and something else entirely. No, with Randy, I was finally able to feel the first wave of security wash over me like a flood. I felt renewed. And, for the first time, I let the barriers around my heart fall down.

* * *

Kevin's murder never made it to trial, much to the chagrin of some extremely talented lawyers. After receiving Randy's story and finding out that it matched up identically with mine, it was ruled that Kevin had been killed in self-defense and the case was closed. That didn't sit too well with the boys back in West Newbury. They already had a personal vendetta with me, and this, this only made it worse.

On the anniversary of Dwayne and my sons' deaths, I found a note taped to the door of my house. It had no address and it had no return address. A tad disconcerted by this, I yanked it off of the door and took it inside with the rest of the mail. Randy sat at the table, his feet crossed on the dining table, a cup of coffee in one hand and an untouched glass of brandy warming on a coaster. I shot him a small smile, before I slid into the chair across from him.

I did my best to bide my time. I looked over all of the other mail, which basically amounted to a few magazines and a subscription renewal to Sports Illustrated, which was for Randy. I shoved them across the table in his general direction and they skidded to a halt in front of his brandy. Randy looked up from the book in his hands, allowed his eyes to skim the mail, and then returned to his book. Now, I had no other choice but to look at the letter.

**_Dear John,_**

**_I bet you think that you're real funny, huh. The flawless, innocent boy. Couldn't do a thing wrong. But now, you've murdered your brother. Whether or not you had an actual hand in it, he's still dead. And all of the blame falls on your shoulders, because we _****know****_ that this is exactly what you wanted. But you know what, John? Unlike you, when we take a hit, we come back for more._**

**_The first item on our agenda? That little boy-toy of yours, Randal Orton. We've looked him up. A war veteran with PTSD. It hit the news real hard when he killed that little girl. Did you tell him that you had three sons, John? Did you tell him that it's your fault that their dead? Yes, it is. There's no use in denying it, Johnny-boy. If you had only been a better parent… but you weren't good for much, anyway. Other than a good fuck._**

**_But back to your little boy-toy. We've been talking about it, and we think that we're gonna start in on him nice and slow. Smack him around a little, maybe make him bleed. Test his boundaries. See how long it takes to make the bastard crack. Maybe we'll even make a video of it and send it to you so that you can relive every minute of his pain. Or maybe, just maybe, we won't touch him at all. You'll decide that._**

**_You see, it's real simple Johnny-boy. An exchange of sorts. We want you back. You can face the music and maybe, just maybe, live to tell the tale. Because once you're in, you're in. You aren't ever gonna be released until they carry your body out in a casket. So, John-boy, here's the deal. You come back to West Newbury, we leave Randy alone. If you don't… well, I can think of more pleasant ways for a man to die._**

**_Until then,_**

**_Your Brothers_**

"John? What's the matter?" Randy had set his book down on the table and was staring directly at me. "Baby, you're white as a fucking sheet. Hold on a second. I'll get you some cold water."

Randy rose out of his chair and walked over to the cabinets, which he fiddled with for awhile as he tried to find the glasses. I just stared at him, like I was in some kind of trance. Who would want to hurt someone as perfect as Randy? From the sweats that hung low on his hips to the shirt that rose up his stomach and revealed his chiseled six-pack, he was absolutely adorable and perfect. And he loved me. As it turned out, perfect came with a cost.

"Here, drink this down." Randy handed me the water. I drank some of it, but couldn't force myself to swallow more. "Baby, you're on fire. C'mon, I think that you need to lie down."

But I shook my head. I couldn't take it. He was just being so perfect and I was… well, I was me. "No, I'm fine. It's just hot in here, that's all. Isn't the air conditioner on?"

"The air conditioner is on sixty, John. If I turn it down any lower, it'll become a polar ice cap in here!" Randy exclaimed. It should've been funny and I would've laughed, but not today.

"Oh." Was all that I was able to force out. "Randy… I… I have a confession to make."

Randy raised one eyebrow. "What is it, John? What has you so upset?"

"I-I'm scared."

"Scared? Of what, John?"

"This."

I handed him the letter and squeezed my eyes closed, ready for the inevitable blow-up that would end our relationship. Randy would then kick me out on the streets and I would have nowhere to go and nobody to turn to. Because, of course, Randy would have contacted our closest friends and warned them about my mob connections. I could just see it now. But Randy only studied the letter silently.

"John?" Randy asked after several minutes of silence. I made a small, affirmative noise in the back of my throat. "I want you to tell me when you found this letter."

I swallowed hard and nodded. "It was on the door when I came home from work. I didn't think too much of it, just took it off the door and opened it up when I came inside."

Randy rose to his feet and I made a choked sound in the back of my throat. "I'm gonna take care of this, Johnny. There's no reason to be scared, okay?"

"I can't let you do that! They'll hurt you!" I screamed back.

"Hey, hey." Randy shushed me softly. "I told you that I would protect you, and I also told you that I would be here for a long time. You just have to trust me when I say that I know what I'm doing. Can you do that, John?"

I squeezed my eyes closed and nodded. "Yeah. I can try, at least."

"Good." Randy patted my shoulder, before he stalked off to 'take care' of the issue. I had never been more nervous in my entire life.

* * *

I had never wanted to tell anyone about the fact that my father was a world-renowned mob boss because I didn't want to earn the A) sympathetic looks, that actually hid disapproval and disgust, B) the immense fear of my fellow students, who would undoubtedly fear that my father would make cement shoes for them, or C) all of the above. To be totally honest, these where issues that I had dealt with my entire life. Even before my mother had died.

That was why I lashed out at Randy when he told me that he had involved the local authorities. I had screamed at him, reminding him that these were the same men and women who had worked so hard to put him behind bars before. Randy had little to no credibility to his name because of that! Also, if word leaked that this had been taken to the authorities, the murder rate would increase so drastically they wouldn't even be able to keep track of it.

Randy shook his head. "I'm just doing what I feel I need to do to properly defend you, John. I have faith in the justice system, just like I had faith that the justice system wouldn't jail me for self-defense."

"No. You're not thinking about me. You're only thinking about yourself." I don't even know what I was saying anymore. I was just incredibly tired, so tired at my body was on auto-pilot. All I could do was yell.

Randy's eyes widened, but he steeled himself. The smallest flicker of hurt crossed his blue eyes, but then he shielded himself from my caustic blows. "I didn't know that you felt so strongly about the way that I treated you."

"You're a self-centered prick who only cares about himself! What about me, huh? What about the fact that, when all of this blows up in our faces, they'll come after _me_ and kill _me_?" I screamed at him.

"I won't let them -,"

Randy barely ducked out of the way in time to avoid a lamp that flew through the air and shattered when it hit the wall. "You don't know that. You don't… don't know…" and then I turned on my heel and ran.


	31. Fear and Love

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Bloodshed, Mob Influence, Murder, Mental Illness, Rape, etc.

* * *

It had been six hours since I had left Randy in the middle of that room, slack-jawed, an expression of hurt and disbelief on his handsome face. I had lost the time between then and now. It was all a blackened blur.

I'm not sure how, but I ended up in a motel somewhere in Clearwater. All I had to my name was a few hundred dollars and a pistol. Where the pistol had come from, I wasn't sure. But I was thankful to have it nearby (even if I didn't know how to shoot it) when all of the shadows started to look like bodies strewn in the darkness. The stony lonesome was scary. Survival of the fittest. Eat or be eaten, baby.

When it was full dark outside, I wondered to myself how I had made it the first years on my own. Maybe my unease had been settled by the fact that there was an officer of the law next door, or maybe I just hadn't cared. It was hard to care under a cloud of morphine, after all. But now, fear was like tiny icicles frozen in my veins. I trembled as the cold shot up and down my back, effectively paralyzed. I was like a catatonic victim, afraid of being afraid.

Slowly, I twirled the pistol in my hands. A creak of the floorboard outside of my rented room sent my heartbeat at a rate of no less than a mile a minute. I could feel myself start to hold my breath. They knew that I was alone. Now, it was time for me to die. If they couldn't have me, then nobody could. It was almost funny, how brave I had acted in front of Randy. Now, all I wanted to do was crawl under the bed and hide, like the bed could prevent the inevitable.

But I didn't. Deep in the back of my mind, I knew that the bed was the worst of all. In all of those scary old horror flicks that Glen and Mark used to force me to watch, it was always the blond who climbed under the bed who died first. So, no, the bed was off limits. I looked around the room, frantic for another place to hide. The closet? No, the physical and metaphorical connotation behind that unnerved me. There _had_ to be another solution.

Just then, there was another creak from outside of my room. I saw no other solution. Rising off of the mattress, trying desperately to conceal each movement, I raced across the floor on light feet and hid away in the bathroom. Turning on the little night light on the wall, the room was immediately flooded with a bluish kind of light. Now, there was a knock on the door. Immediately thereafter, a soft click as it unlocked. The door opened and…

I shot twice. I'm not even sure how I did it, but I did. It must've been some kind of reflex I didn't realize that I had. A scream followed shortly thereafter. "What the hell was that?"

It was a woman. My blood ran cold. I shot at a woman? "Who is out there?" I asked, my voice stern. I couldn't let on that I was totally freaked out by this odd situation. "And why are you here?"

"My name is Natalya! I'm just the cleaning lady!" Her voice trembled as she spoke, and I could hear the honesty in how terrified she was. "Please, don't shoot!"

"Why are you here?" I continued to press a little harder. It was way too late for her to be cleaning, after all.

"The manager said that you looked upset and asked me to check in on you. He didn't say you had a gun!"

Finally, I made my way out of my little hiding spot and walked over to the door. She stood there, trembling and afraid. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just a little on edge, that's all."

"A little?" She raised one delicately manicured brow. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report this?"

"I need a place to stay. Just for tonight. I'll be out of your hair before you can miss me tomorrow."

She looked me over, unimpressed. "You could have seriously hurt someone. I'll have to tell Heath, whether you leave or not." She said strictly.

My shoulder's sagged with defeat. "Fine. You win. I surrender." I told her. "Can I just have a ten minute head start? I have a story, but I can't tell you. All you need to know is that _I'm_ not the one you need to be worried about."

Natalya sighed. "I must be crazy to believe you. Ten minutes. Then I'll have to report it to Heath."

I could have kissed her then. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

She tapped at her watch, as if to say that I had just wasted precious time. I nodded, thankful. Running around my room like a chicken with its head cut off, I managed to pack what little I had and made my way toward the front door. I dished out a few bills to cover the room on the front reception desk, before I dumped all of the stuff into my Mustang and started the engine. The last thing that I saw was Natalya's face in the main office window as I drove off.

Where would I go now? I didn't want to head home, because I knew what waited for me there. It would be absolute torture. But, at least if I went back home, I knew that they would keep their hands off of Randy. My brother's may be assholes, but I knew for a fact that they were men of their words. I could trust that, at the very least. Taking a breath to try and calm myself, I drove off into an uncertain future.

* * *

I came up to the old house. It was exactly the same as I remembered it, which was unfortunate, because in all its beauty, I could only see it as a den of madness. It was there that I had endured almost eighteen years of abuse. It was there that I had first been subjected to a morphine injection. I couldn't even call it a house anymore. No, this wasn't a house. This was a portal into hell.

I still had my old key. Walking up to the front door, I took it out and unlocked the door. Immediately, warmth enveloped me. I stumbled across my oldest brothers, Glenn and Mark, almost immediately. They shot me lecherous looks, and then their eyes scaled down to the gun holster at my hip. Their eyes flashed appreciatively. It was as if they finally accepted me into their hellacious little circle. I wanted out.

Still, I continued down the hall, turned the corner, and made my way down into the basement. The scent of rotted flesh hit me full force. I wondered when the last time the Punishment Room had been cleaned was. But all too soon, I realized that the real issue wasn't the Punishment Room at all. Stumbling down the last few steps as I always did, I found myself in front of my father's desk.

There, in his seat, was his father. Bloodied papers stuck up out of his pocket, and through that pocket, there was a bullet wound. His belly was swollen and his skin had started to tinge purple. I felt my heart climb into my throat when I saw the gun in his hand. But that wasn't the most shocking thing in the situation. Because in my father's lap, there was a dead boy as well. He couldn't have been older than twenty-years-old.

He was totally naked and seated on my father, who only had his slacks unzipped. It made me sick to think of how my father had treated me when I had come out to him, only to turn around and do the exact same thing. What kind of man did that? The boy had a gun in his hand as well. His sagged just a little bit below the gunshot wound in my father's chest. The boy had a wound in the belly, which was where my father's gun was aimed.

"They killed each other." I heard Mark whisper in my ear. A tremor of fear shot down my spine as I turned around to face him. "Dad couldn't stand to see what he had done. So he killed him. And John killed him too."

"John?" I felt my breath catch in my throat. I pointed to the pretty man. "His name was John?"

"John Morrison, yes." Glen said nonchalantly. "Isn't it beautiful?" He eyed the bloodshed with lust in his eyes.

"It's disgusting." I said.

"And it's exactly what we're gonna do to you, Johnny-boy." Mark sneered harshly.


	32. Do You Love Me?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Mpreg, Mental Illness, Rape, Murder, Bloodshed, Mob Influence, etc.

"W-What?" I stuttered out and silently cursed my weakness. Glen and Mark started to close in around me. "Hey, stand back! I'm… I'll shoot!" I brandished the weapon I hadn't remembered that I had.

Glen smirked at me. "Don't be a jokester, little man. All three of us know the truth. You _want_ this. You have a sick little itch that needs to be scratched. You _need_ us to hurt you."

Mark elaborated on his words. "You have absolutely no existence without us, Johnny-boy. You need us to make you whole." Mark hissed. His hands slithered up the front of my shirt and started to unbutton it.

"Take your hands off of me!" I protested weakly. I knocked his arm away, but it came back with twice the force behind it. "Don't touch me!"

"Aww, look. I think that little Johnny is actually a little scared. Gonna wet your pants like a baby?" Mark teased.

Glen smirked. "Nah, I don't think he's scared. Look at the boner he's sporting. He's loving every minute of it."

"Is that true, Johnny-boy? Do you want this?" Mark's voice washed over me like hot steam.

Fear washed over me, and, in the heat of the moment, I shot. The wild fire blasted out in random directions, hitting the ceiling and planting holes in the wooden planks aligned there. Some landed in the wooden support beams, which were rotted with water and age, and splintered them. One hit so hard that it cracked and imploded onto itself. And one lucky shot cut the side of Mark's head just enough to send him staggering back with shock.

I only had a few seconds, and after I forced myself to make my feet move, I utilized every one of them. Running toward the stairs, I climbed them on my hands and knees. The wood cut into my palms and my knee caps, but I didn't care. There wasn't time to care. Throwing myself at the door to the main floor of the house, I raced out into the kitchen and slid across the floor, falling down and rolling, rolling, until I hit the cupboards with a sharp _thud_.

Mark and Glen's curses fell over me as they clambered up the stairs, Mark complaining about the blinding ache in his forehead. Shaking off the pain in my side, I struggled back to my feet and started off again. I couldn't hesitate. Even one minute could be the difference between life or death. But in my haste to escape this hell, I realized that I had become hopelessly lost. It was a sad side-effect of the fact that I had run away at such a young age.

"You little fucking bitch!" Mark hissed at him. "I'll break your fucking neck for that!"

"Where are you, you little fucker?" This time, it was Glen. "We'll find you and finish what we started."

"Do you know why Kevin was there that night? He was there to fuck you, Johnny. He was gonna fuck you, and then he was gonna kill you. Lay you down, all bloody and beautiful, in bed next to your boy-toy."

I could almost imagine Glen's sick, twisted smile as he said, "I wish that I could have heard him scream. That last scream before Kevin blew his brains out, when he realized it was too late for you and for him."

"N-No." I choked out, my voice trembling in the silence.

And just then, I felt them close in behind me. "Gotcha."

Mark was on me in seconds. He shuffled around for a few minutes, before he cracked a beer bottle over my head and rejoiced as the sticky liquid showered over me, as well as shards of glass and blood. I swooned, but kept an image of what would become of me if I fell firm in my mind. If I went down now, it would be the end. Sinking my nails into the palms of my hands until they bled, I shot once, this time catching Glen in the shoulder.

Glen howled, but like a zombie, he just… didn't… die. I plowed between them, trying a different hallway. No success. Another one. It wasn't any better. They had started to close in one me again, and now Mark had one of Dad's old shotguns. He raised it up, narrowed his eyes, and his entire body jerked with the force of his shot. Blood splattered everywhere, from my shirt to my face. Sickness flooded every pore. Blackness dotted my vision.

I had been shot in the stomach. It wasn't a fatal wound, if fatal meant that I would die immediately. Most likely, I would bleed out slowly. Distorted figures came into my vision and I was barely able to identify them as my brothers. Glen, or the one I presumed was Glen, smacked my face a few times. Finally, he took me by what little hair I had, yanked my head back, and sealed our lips in a brutal kiss that left me tasting blood. I felt even sicker than before.

"Should we let him out of his misery, Glen?" Mark asked, his voice like sugar. Their blood dripped onto me.

"Now, how would that be fair? The little bitch ran out on _us_, didn't he? Think of this as our way to… repay the debt." Glen started to tear at my clothes with as much ferocity as his broken shoulder would allow.

"Do you love us, Johnny-boy? Do you want to stay with us forever?" Mark slurred drunkenly. His head wound had started to effect his brain, I thought ruefully. He had such a wonderful mind, it was a shame to see it wasted.

I remained silent, unable to speak because of the painful knot in my stomach and the amount of blood I had lost.

Glen kicked me in the stomach and I coughed up blood. "Answer us, damn it! We don't have all day!"

When I didn't answer, Mark started to tear off my pants. "Fine, be that little bitch. We'll break you in soon enough."

I realized with the smallest hint of sadness that I hadn't even allowed Randy to touch me yet, and now, my two brothers were about to brutally abuse my body for their own pleasure. I'd like to say that that was the end of it, but it wasn't. Blackness clouded my vision, but I could feel the burning tear as one of them entered me. Blood sloshed all over my body and I was far too weak to resist them now.

Just as he buried himself to the hilt, I felt his body rock against mine and all of a sudden he became dead weight. A second later, a large _crack_ hit the air like the cataclysmic shot-heard-round-the-world. Another body fell down beside mine, dead. The man that was inside of me was yanked out and I cried out in pain and in shock. Gentle nothings were whispered in my ear as I was cradled into warm arms I feared I would never feel again.

"Randy?" I choked softly, loving the way his familiar scent completed me.

"Shh, Johnny." That was all that he was able to say before I finally blacked out.

* * *

When I first awoke, I realized that I was in an overly-sterilized, white-washed room. I breathed in, feeling a burning pain in my stomach like I had never experienced before. If I were to define it, I'd say that it was even worse than the labor pains that I had endured with Dean, Michael, and Liam. At least with those I had known that there would be some form of benefit. Somehow, I knew that this would not be the case here.

The first person I noticed was a nurse, who almost blended in with the wall in all of her white. The only thing that really stood out was the bright red cross on her hat. When she noticed that I was awake, she smiled at me and then returned back to her work. Shortly thereafter, I noticed Steph in the chair beside me. Her eyes were puffy red with the tears she must have shed. The pile of tissues in the trashcan was evidence to that.

"Johnny? You're awake!" Her voice was strangled, as if this was the first time that she had tried to speak in the midst of all her tears. I tried to speak, but she shook her head. "No, don't. You have an oxygen mask on."

I must have looked rather confused, because she elaborated for me.

"Randy was so worried about you when you ran off like that, he tracked you all the way back to your old house. He saw what your brothers had done to you and he just lost it. He killed them, John. For you."

Tears welled in my eyes at that. Nobody had ever cared so much about me before (besides Steph, of course – but I highly doubted that she could swing a gun around like Randy could). But I had to wonder where he was.

She looked into my eyes, saw the question there, and responded. "He didn't think that you'd want him here."

What? I made a strangled sound behind the mask and panic crossed her eyes.

"You have to stay calm, John, or they won't let you have any more visitors."

Immediately, I calmed myself. I didn't want her to have to worry on her own.

"When Randy first arrived here, I was the first one he called. He knew that you and I had a long-standing friendship and he wanted to make sure that I was informed incase anything was leaked to the press. I came over just as soon as I could and the two of us… well, we had a real long talk about your relationship.

"John, I've come to the conclusion that Randy loves you to death. That man would just as easily make love to you as he would lay down his life for you. Why else do you think that he killed Kevin without so much as a second thought? It was because he loves you and he doesn't want you to be hurt.

"But John, not every situation can be solved with violence. You have to realize that if Randy went around and shot down every man that did you wrong, he would be behind bars or possibly even on death row. He loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, which was _why_ he involved the cops.

"John, you have to understand that he loves you. There is nowhere else he'd rather be than right here beside you all along, but he can't do that because he thinks that he has somehow wronged you. He fears that he has done some kind of irrevocable, damnable act in your eyes. The only way to fix the broken record is to do it yourself."

I thought over her words for a minute. And, the more that I mulled over them, the more that I realized that they made perfect sense. Randy had never been the kind of man to be upfront and honest about how he felt. He liked to show it in small gestures of affection, or even laying down his life for those that meant the most to him. How could I have been so blind? Suddenly, Randy didn't seem like so much of a monster. Now, I did.

Against her advice and somewhat violent reception, I lowered the mask and stared directly into her chocolate brown eyes. I was sure that all of the love that I felt for Randy was conveyed there. "Please, tell him to come back home."

It may have been the raspy, deathbed quality of my voice (I had no intention of dying, not yet anyway) or the blatant display of emotion in my eyes, but in the end, she had no choice but to nod. "Okay."


	33. The Proposal, Our Home

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Violence, Incest, Rape, Mob Influence, Bloodshed, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

I was incredibly uncomfortable. For the first time, I could feel all of the after-effects of the injuries that Mark and Glen had inflicted on me. My stomach twisted as I recalled the horrific burn as they entered and tore me. For a minute, I feared that I would be sick. But I was able to swallow it back, and once I did, I took a deep breath and rubbed at my eyes. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I realized how awful this situation really was. Randy had killed two more men. He murdered them.

I should be upset about that, shouldn't I? He killed my brothers, after all. First, he killed Kevin. Hell, I had endorsed his every move. Methodically, he had raised that gun and waited for the exact moment to put a bullet through his skull. And it had filled me with a sick sense of ecstasy that I would curse myself for later. In relishing in that simple act, I realized that I had become like them. And worse than that, I didn't care. I had become the monster they wanted me to be and loved it.

And then, when he had broken into the house, guns blazing, all I could think of was the fact that he was like my knight in shining armor. I didn't care that I had just lost two more brothers (and, for that matter, my father). But what I _did_ care about was the fact that Randy was worried that I didn't want him. He was worried that, after he had saved me from my attackers, I would hate him even more. And I couldn't have that. So, I sent Steph out to find him.

There was a knock on the door. I briefly thought that it could be Steph, but then I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. "Come in!" I called. My voice was hoarser than I would have liked.

"Johnny?" Randy's low husk washed over me. I could barely contain the smile that formed. "Stephanie called and told me that you wanted me to come and see you. I'm not sure if she was misinformed or -,"

I cut him off. "Please, don't think like that, Randy. I asked her to call you and tell you to come here. I wanted to be able to say 'thank you' to your face. I don't deserve you and you didn't deserve to be treated the way that I treated you."

Randy shook his head. "No, Johnny. I was scared for you and I was scared to lose you, so I made a rash decision."

"Yes, you made a rash decision, but you made it for _me_. You made it with my best interest at heart. Nobody's done that before. Nobody's ever cared about me enough to do that before." My throat had started to clog with tears.

"Not even Dwayne?" Randy asked in confusion.

"Dwayne tried… but he couldn't defend me like I _know_ that you can, Randy." I said assuredly.

Randy smiled weakly, but I could see the hesitation behind it. "You sound so confident in me."

"I trust you, Randy. That's more than I've ever been able to say about my blood family. You _are_ my family now."

Randy nodded, smiled, and then looked away to hide the tears that started to streak down his face. "You shouldn't trust me so much. I couldn't get there in time to stop… _this_." Randy couldn't even say the word.

"That's not your fault, Randy. That's my own stupidity. I should never have left like that." I said a lot calmer than I should have been. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

Randy nodded briefly, methodically, and I have a fleeting thought that he looked like a robot. After several minutes of awkward pacing at the foot of my bed, he finally came around and took a seat in the E-Z chair beside the bed. I studied his face in the dim lighting of the room. He looked older than he had when I had last seen him. Killing two men tended to have that affect on you. His bright blue eyes were swollen and red-rimmed and he twisted his hands uncomfortably.

Randy closed his eyes and I wondered what he was thinking. Carefully, I reached out with the hand that had my IV and took hold of his. He jumped, startled. And then, after a moment of hesitation, he took his other hand and covered mine. I tried to convey to him all of the love that I felt for him, the adoration and complete faith that I had in him, and all of the forgiveness that came with it. I loved Randy and I needed him to know that.

Finally, Randy got to his feet and walked over to the bed. He kissed me, hard and fast, displaying all of the love and affection that he felt for me and loving the way that I reciprocated in kind. I wrapped my arm around him and loved the feel as he settled into my chest. This was the way that it was meant to be. I hadn't felt this with Dwayne, hadn't felt this when Dr. Lesnar attacked me (or, any of my brother's for that matter). I felt safe and loved.

Suddenly, Randy drew back. I looked at him, confused, until I saw him reach into his pocket and take out a small, velvet box. "I have something that I need to ask you, Johnny Boy."

I blinked at him, still in awe of the fact that Randy was getting down on one knee in my hospital room. It wasn't the most romantic place for a proposal, but I couldn't think of a better place. "Yes, Randy?"

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there to defend you from your brothers. But I promise, I will be there for you from now on. I promise that I will be that wall that stands between you and everyone and everything that tries to hurt you. It's not fair that you have to experience this, Johnny. I want to keep you safe. That's what I _live _for now.

"John, I love you. I love you so much; there just aren't words to say it. None of them do it justice. Maybe I'm a bit of a sap, and maybe you think that all of this is fluff and useless drivel, but this is how I _feel_. God, John, it feels like _forever_ since anybody has been able to make me _feel_. And you know what? It's _wonderful_.

"I don't know what I will do if you say no, but I definitely know that I will never know if I never try. John, I love you. If it weren't for you, I can honestly say that I probably wouldn't still be here. You're my reason to wake up every morning and I hope that you're mine too. Johnny, would you marry me -,"

Before he could even finish, I leaned in and kissed him harshly. "Yes, yes. God, yes, Randy! Yes, I'll marry you!"

Randy only chuckled and slid the ring onto my finger. "Good. I'm glad."

* * *

It felt wonderful to finally be back _home_. Never before had it held the same connotation as it did now. Now, it was _our_ home. Randy was already working to get my name on the deed. It would most likely take two weeks to make it official, but I loved the little smile that would form whenever Randy heard me call it 'our' couch or 'our' bed or 'our' garden. Distantly, I remembered that he said he had been married once and it felt nice to not feel lonely in his house anymore.

I made us both some coffee and sat down in the kitchen. Randy had one of his novels and I had my laptop. The funds from when I had been married to Dwayne had just been unfrozen following the completion of the investigation revolving around their deaths and I had used most of the money to fund the building of an extension onto the hospital. It would be used to treat trauma victims that had experienced wounds like stab-wounds or slashes, and it would be in their name.

Randy was extremely supportive. He was also supportive of the fact that one day (not anytime soon, dear Lord – I was still recovering from the latest attack from my brother's) I wanted to try to have another child. Something in me still wanted that child. Someone to care for besides myself, an extension of me. I was still reeling from the deaths of Dean, Michael, and Liam… but maybe I could try again. I would never forget them, but maybe they wouldn't mind a little brother or sister.

It was a distant dream, but one day, I hoped to make it a reality.


	34. The First Anniversary, The First Time

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Incest, Mob Influence, Bloodshed, Murder, Mental Disorders, Non-Con, etc.

* * *

A few weeks later, it was like life was back to normal. Well, as normal as life could be for an ex-addict and an ex-marine with severe PTSD. We had settled into a routine. Randy had taken on a second job so that I could recover from my attack, so he wasn't home as often. Usually, he would come home when I was already in bed and leave before I awoke. But that was okay, because it allowed me some time to self-reflect. That, and we had the weekends. Yes, this new life was nice.

But today? Today was special. Today was our one-year anniversary. Randy had requested that he could leave his first job a few hours early and had taken the day off from his other job just to come home and spend some time alone with me. It was sweet and romantic and I wanted to do something special for him in turn. So, I made him dinner. And I mean I really _tried_ to make him dinner. It took me three times to make it halfway edible, but on the fifth turn, it was _flawless_.

I set the table with the good dishes and took out the candles, lighting each one and letting their sweet scent fill the room. Then, I dimmed the lights to a romantic glow. With the press of a button, classical music flowed from the CD tower in our entertainment system. Our room was also decorated in the same manner, with candles and soft classical music. Because, you see, I was finally ready to hand myself entirely over to Randy. I wanted him to own me totally and make me better.

It wasn't like we hadn't been intimate before. Just, not to the extent that most people would think being intimate implies. There had never been any penetration. I just wasn't ready to take it that far and Randy was always considerate and understanding. Now, I wanted to repay him for that kindness. It felt like forever since I had willingly handed myself off to someone, and, in reality, I had only done so once before. That was with Dwayne. But I couldn't think like that. Not tonight.

Randy came home around six o' clock, his key twisting in the lock with a small _click_. "Johnny? Baby? I'm home!" He called out. I rushed out to meet him and threw my arms around his neck, before I kissed him harshly.

He reciprocated in kind. The keys went onto the table by the door, before he wrapped his arms around my middle and scooped me up off of the floor. I drew back a little bit. "Welcome home, Ran."

Randy smirked and revealed killer canines. "God, John. If I would've known that that was how I would be greeted, I would come home early from work more often."

I smiled and slapped his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. If only you could. But don't worry. I plan to head back to work as soon as my doctor clears me." I told him confidently.

"Don't push yourself too hard, baby. I'd love for you to be able to head back to work, but right now, I kinda like being the one to take care of you." Randy told me honestly. My smile broadened.

"Head upstairs and take a shower. I made dinner, so don't take too long." I told him. My smile never faltered.

Randy's eyes looked like they might pop out of his skull. "You _cooked_? Is it edible?"

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Of course it's edible, you jerk! Now, go upstairs and take your shower before I change my mind about what I have planned later tonight."

Randy's eyes darkened with some unidentifiable emotion, most likely lust, and his predatory smirk returned. "Will I _like_ this surprise?" He asked.

I batted my eyelashes at him. "Undoubtedly." And then, I walked off to the kitchen to finish what I had started.

The only reason that I know that he actually went upstairs to take a shower was because a few minutes later, I could hear water rush through the pipes in the direction of the upstairs master bathroom. Quickly, I finished the preparations for dinner. I diced the vegetables and slathered them in the gravy that I had made from the drippings and fat of the meat. It was so unhealthy, but absolutely delicious. And then I served the mashed potatoes, vegetables, and chicken on two plates.

Just as I started to set the table, Randy came downstairs. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that hugged his thighs and a loose white t-shirt that read 'Property of The Viper's Car Repairs'. What was left of his hair (he had recently cut it because it was getting hotter outside again) dripped with beads of murky water and he had a towel draped around his neck. When he saw me, he smiled that radiant smile that made my heart skip a beat. He took a seat at the table and stared at his food.

"I'm impressed, Johnny." He said as he poked at his chicken, almost like he was afraid it would come alive at any minute. "You've certainly outdone yourself with this dinner."

"Well, it _is_ our first anniversary. I wanted to make sure that it was special." I said with a smile. "Happy anniversary, Randy." I said as I handed a small box to him.

Randy looked it over carefully. "You shouldn't have, Johnny. You know that I don't need anything."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. That's what makes you so hard to shop for."

Randy dismissed my well-concealed little jab and opened the box. Inside, there was a necklace with a viper pendant attached, each coated in 24-karat gold over silver. The viper had a real ruby for its eye as well. Randy stared at it in awe. From the look on his face, he probably wondered where I got the money to pay for such an extravagant gift. I hadn't told him about all of the money from my frozen funds, only some of it. I wanted the money in this relationship to be _ours_.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I… I… just _wow_. There is really nothing that I can say that would explain how thankful I am for this. Thank you so much, John." He reached over the table and took my hand.

"You're welcome, baby. It's something that I really wanted to do for you and I've wanted to do it for awhile. I'm glad that you like it." There is no amount of money in the world that I wouldn't pay for that smile.

Randy reached into his pocket and took out his own box. He handed it to me. "Happy Anniversary, Johnny. I was a little stumped over what to get you, but somehow, I knew that you would like this."

I smiled as I took the box and opened it. Inside was a… pamphlet? I looked to Randy, who encouraged me to continue further. So, I did. Carefully, I removed the pamphlet from the box and opened it up. It was a Compassion International pamphlet, which told about a sponsor program for children in other countries less fortunate than children in the United States. And from inside the pamphlet, a little picture fell out.

It was a picture of a girl, probably no more than six or seven years old. The bottom of the picture said that she was from Barcelona. She had dark hair that tumbled down to her waist and equally dark eyes. She had written me a letter, which was translated from Italian to English in full, saying how thankful she was that I had chosen to sponsor her. I felt my heart swell as I looked at her little face, so sweet and innocent. This was the best gift I could have asked for.

I looked up at Randy and could feel the first tears start to shine in my eyes. "Thank you, Randy! Thank you so, so much! This is just… this is just _perfect_. I love you."

Randy smiled. "I thought that you would like it. And I love you too." Then, he looked down at his dinner, which would get cold if we waited much longer. "How about we eat? Then we can talk more about Antonia."

I smiled as I tried her name out on my tongue. Antonia. A beautiful name for an equally beautiful little girl. "Yes. I would like that. I would like that a lot."

We ate dinner in companionable silence. All the while, I couldn't help but steal little glances at the picture of my sponsor child. That had to be the most thoughtful gift that anyone could have gotten me. I was so thankful to have Randy in my life. Once dinner was over, I set the dishes in the sink and sat with Randy on the couch, talking about Antonia. I was just tickled by his generosity and his love. And then, with a smile, I led him upstairs to show him just how _thankful_ I was.

* * *

Randy slicked his fingers with lube and tenderly circled them around my entrance, willing me to relax. I took a deep breath and tried to do so, putting a mental wall up against the images of my bastard brothers and remembering that Randy had sacrificed himself to save me from them. Finally, Randy leaned forward and kissed my belly button, his face nuzzling the soft skin there. All of the fight left me immediately and he carefully inserted the first finger.

I moaned, arching my back until our chests brushed together. Randy leaned forward and captured my mouth, pressing his body down so that our weights mingled pleasurably. It felt _wonderful_. I spread my legs further and barely felt the burning ache of a second finger making its way into my entrance. I rocked down onto them, fucking myself just as the tip of one of his fingers brushed against my prostate. I halted almost immediately, stars rocketing in front of my vision.

It was like a drug-induced haze. In an instant, he had another finger inside of me and had shifted my legs so that my feet were beside his ears. It allowed him better leverage and made it easier for him to access my prostate. Abusing the sensitive gland, he brought me to that tentative brink of pleasure… only to draw be back to the world of the living when he removed his fingers and started to slick up his cock. I watched through half-lidded eyes, totally unaware.

"You ready for this, Johnny?" He asked me sweetly, his deep baritone like a purr. I nodded furiously, but he didn't move. He wanted to hear me vocalize… he always liked it when I screamed.

"Yes… Yes, please… Please, _fuck me_…" those vulgar words were unfamiliar to me and almost seemed vile, but they fell from my mouth without hesitation and it was almost enough to make me blush.

But Randy shook his head. "No." He leaned down so that he was right next to my ear. "I'm going to make… the sweetest love to you." He purred, before he lined himself up with my entrance.

"Oh _fuck_…" I hissed as he slowly started to slide into me.

For a minute, I feared that the searing pain would never end. I had forgotten what it felt like to be entered while still fully-conscious. That, and my body was still recovering from my attack. But he took his time, careful not to reopen old wounds. Carefully, he drew back until only the head remained, and then he slid all the way back in. This time, the head of his cock slammed into my prostate and all thoughts of pain flew out of my mind.

Once he was sure that I was comfortable with this pace, a little _too_ comfortable by the pleasure-like haze that I had entered into, he started to move faster. Still not into the 'fuck your brains out' category that Dwayne would often enter into, no, this was more sensual. It wasn't exactly faster, but deeper. It was like I could feel him complete me, all of me, and I had never felt that before with Dwayne. It brought me to new highs that I had never before experienced.

And then, one hand slithered across my hip, still coated in lube, and started to stroke my half-hard erection. I think that that was what did it for me. I started to choke out words, I'm not exactly sure at all of what I said, but I do remember instructions like 'faster' or 'harder'. For the most part, Randy obliged. Except, he kept that same, steady pace throughout. He flicked his wrist flamboyantly and that was my undoing. I came, my channel clenching and bringing him off too.

Randy carefully pulled out and I was amazed to see absolutely no blood. "That was absolutely incredible, Johnny. You did wonderful." Randy kissed my forehead as he cleaned me off with a wet washcloth.

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, only semi-conscious. "You're not upset that I'm damaged goods?"

Randy frowned. He stopped his ministrations and took hold of my face firmly. "You're _not_ damaged goods, Johnny. You're a victim of circumstance. And I would love you either way."

I smiled at him, the last thing I remember saying before finally losing consciousness was, "Good."


	35. The Rehearsal Dinner

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Incest, Mpreg, Mob Influence, Bloodshed, Murder, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

As it turned out, I would receive the second chance that I had craved all of these years. I would receive a second chance to be a father. I found out the news two weeks later and I couldn't have been more excited.

How should I break the news to him? A million different scenarios flew in and out of my mind in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. I could be cheesy and romantic – make him dinner, set the mood, we could make love, and _then_ I could tell him. Or I could make him a card with the first picture inside. Or I could just be upfront and honest about it. A million different scenarios and a million different outcomes. I could only hope that that outcome would be positive.

The doctor had immediately started me on prenatal vitamins because of my age. She had explained to me that it was often difficult to conceive now that I had aged beyond thirty-five (we don't really need to think about _exactly_ how old I am, do we?) and there was also a higher chance that I could miscarry. In order for the baby to be born safely and be healthy, I had to take two vitamins a day, eat well, and stay in bed for most of the day. There was no need to overexert myself.

So, that's what I did. I made sure that I was active whenever Randy was around. I cooked him dinner, cleaned the house, washed the clothes, and did _whatever_ it took to make sure that he didn't worry about me. When he was at work (which seemed more and more often nowadays) I lay down and had a maid come in to finish all of my chores. Phil would often come over around that time and we'd talk and throw some cards around. I was thankful for the break, him the distraction.

Life went on as we knew it. I don't suppose it ever did occur to me that I still had another brother lurking in the shadows somewhere. I was much too busy with the preparations for my upcoming wedding. Oh, didn't I mention that? We'd finally set the date. The second of November. And there was still so much work to be done before then. But that didn't matter. The beauty of the church paled in comparison to the beauty of this new family that I was about to create.

I was extremely excited, in case you couldn't tell. When Phil wasn't over, it was Eve. Vindictive bitch though she was, I had known her for many years and she was an _excellent_ party planner. That, _and_ Teddy had hinted that ever since she was back in town, a certain blonde bombshell who had fawned over me for nearly a decade was off the market. If you could get Barbie Blanc off my back, I would love you forever. Telling Randy about the baby was the furthest thing from my mind.

* * *

I studied my reflection in the mirror carefully. It was the night of the rehearsal dinner. And on that same night, a face from the past had decided to rear its ugly head. My grandmother on my mother's side had hunted me down. She claimed that she had been looking for me for several years, close to a decade now. If that was in fact true, she must not have been looking very hard. I had changed my name back to 'Cena' and had lived openly for several years since Dwayne's death.

But that wasn't what struck me as odd. When I saw her, I saw my own mortality. She was beautifully frail, with wispy white skin that was almost translucent and white hair that looked almost to be platinum blond. When I looked at her, I saw my mother. Not as she looked on her death bed, no, but as she had looked in all of the pictures that I had seen of her. Alive. Thriving. Beautiful. But she had died, and eventually, so would my grandmother. And I would too.

She wanted to talk but I didn't know what to say. What do you say to the woman who has wanted nothing to do with you your entire life, who suddenly comes back into the picture on the brink of death and wants some kind of relationship? I sure as Hell didn't know. So, I told her the truth. I told her that I had a prior engagement. The look on her face that followed was so disheartening, I invited her to the rehearsal dinner on a whim. As it turns out, I have no backbone.

There was a knock on the door. "It's not locked!" I called.

The doorknob twisted and Eve sauntered inside in a dress too low-cut to be considered the least bit professional. "It's time, Mr. Cena. Are you ready to meet your future husband?"

I forced a little smile and nodded nervously. "As ready as I'll ever be." She walked over to be and patted my arm a few times, before she led me into the church.

Eve led me over to Randy, before she took a seat in the nearly abandoned pews. Randy took my hands and smiled at me warmly, and all at once, I could feel the love and adoration pour off of him in waves. Instantly, I was reminded of how much I loved Randy and how much he loved me. That made all of this worth it. I smiled and he kissed my forehead softly. That kiss made me smile. We hadn't done much more because we wanted to keep it special for the honeymoon.

The first part of the ceremony went off without a hitch. And then, the preacher asked if we had prepared our own vows. Both of us nodded. The preacher turned to Randy. "Would you like to start, Mr. Orton?"

Randy nodded and swallowed hard. "I once served in the US Marines, as you know, John. Back then, I was married to my country. I didn't think for myself, I acted in the manner that was best for the Marines. Ironically, it was only after I developed PTSD that I started to think for myself. After I was medically released, I knew what I wanted. A family.

"And then I met you at that restaurant. I'll confess that I went aside and I talked to Teddy about you. I wanted to know it all. He told me that you had had a hard time and had had your heart broken. But no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn't tell me more. Now, I'm thankful that _you_ were the one to tell me. I needed to hear those words from your mouth.

"John, you _are_ my family now. Some would consider this just a formality, because, really, you're my world and I've made it incredibly clear that you're the _only_ one who matters. However, I think that this is the most important step in our relationship thus far. I can't wait to let the world know that you're mine. And you deserve a happily ever after."

I sniffled and raised a hand to brush the tears away from my eyes. "That was beautiful, Randy."

"It better be. It took me nearly a week to just write that much. I would have written more, but you know how I am with words." Randy dismissed it with a shrug of his shoulders.

The preacher turned to me. "Would you like to take your turn, Mr. Cena?"

I sniffled and rubbed at my eyes as they continued to betray me. "Yeah. Just a second, okay?"

"Take all of the time that you need, baby." Randy assured me.

I nodded and took a deep breath. When I looked up and stared into his eyes, I slowly felt all of my inhibitions melt away. "I didn't have the best childhood, as you know. My mother died when I was little and my father was a b-… he was a jerk." I had to remember that we were in a church. "My father didn't believe in fairytales, so I didn't either.

"I was married once before. His name was Dwayne Johnson." An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. "I've never actually confessed it out loud before, but he was murdered. He and my precious babies were murdered and taken from me way before their time. A child should never die before their parents, _never_.

"Honestly, I had given up hope on love and happily ever after. That's when I met you, Randy. And you made me believe again. You've saved me over and over and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, because I know that when I'm in your arms, I'm safe from all of the horrors of my past and the terror of an uncertain future." I said.

Randy stared at me with wide, beautifully blue eyes. "Do you really mean that, Johnny?"

I nodded and sniffled. "Yes, I do."

It was like we couldn't wait any longer. Randy leaned forward and sealed our lips in a bruising kiss, marking me as his forever. This was the way that it was meant to be. I was forever safe in his arms and I felt that, in some way, I filled a little hole in his heart as well. His arms secured around my middle and pulled me closer as best he could in these holy quarters, in front of the eyes of all of these spectators. _That_ would have to wait for the honeymoon.

The preacher smiled and didn't comment. She finished the service with a small smile and dismissed us downstairs for dinner. I didn't remember a word of what she said, but I knew for a fact that Randy also had a smile on his face. I only had eyes for Randy. The words that Randy had said earlier filtered through my mind. _Some would say that this is little more than a formality_. For once, I disagreed with Randy. This _was_ a formality. I was already entirely his.

* * *

After the ceremony the next day, Randy and I made our way downstairs to the fellowship hall for the reception. There were already several family members all around. Not my family, of course, but Randy's family. And now, I realized with a smile, they were my family as well. Randy proudly displayed me to them and I was welcomed with open arms. Randy had told me that he had told them about my family and from the warm reception I could tell they didn't care.

But then, I heard a voice that I had hoped I would never have to hear again. "Johnny boy, look who it is!" And when I turned around, I came face-to-face with my older brother Scott and my grandmother.


	36. Family Revelations, The Business

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Incest, Mpreg, Mob Influence, Bloodshed, Murder, Mental Disorders, etc.

* * *

I could feel the tension as is started to swell in the hall. It seemed as if all of the festivities had come to an uncomfortable halt and all eyes had turned to Randy and I. Randy's hands came to settle on my shoulders in a manner that would have comforted me under any other circumstances, under _normal_ circumstances, but this situation was far from normal. Once more, I couldn't help but wonder why it always had to be _me_. Wasn't there anyone else in the world to weather this hell?

My older brother was exactly as I remembered him, and for some reason, that made me feel a little bit better. There were so many years between us that I never had a chance to actually _know_ him, but I had seen him with his friends and his wives – he had four of them, and if you counted the one that died in the middle of the ceremony, five – and I knew that he was a nice fellow. Well, as nice as you could be to molest your little brother. I had my issues, but his were much worse.

"Scott." I said weakly. I forced myself to meet his eyes and for several minutes, all I could do was stare into the identical chocolate brown abysses. "It's so nice of you to come uninvited."

Scott jabbed his thumb back in my Grandmother's direction. "Actually, I came with her. Dad had to take her license before he died and I didn't want her to have to take a taxi."

"How generous of you. You're a regular southern gentleman." I bit out. It was a little heavy on the sarcasm and I could see a flicker of some unidentifiable emotion, most likely anger, in the back of his eyes.

"Look, I'm not here to start a fight, little brother. I know that your man here is probably itching to put a bullet through my chest, but I don't intend to earn one today. The real reason that I'm here is to say… I'm sorry."

I blinked, stunned stupid by this sudden turn of events. Could it be that my brother, bloodthirsty and sky-high as he had once been, actually _apologized_ to me? "What was that?"

Scott sighed. "I came to say I'm sorry. For Kevin… for Mark and Glenn… for Dad… for _everything_." He looked around nervously. "Look, can we finish this conversation outside? I don't like the vibe in here."

Randy's hands tightened around my shoulders, almost like I was some kind of doll that needed to be protected. A wave of defiance surged up in me and I realized that I didn't need _anyone_ to protect me. "Randy…"

His answer was immediate. "No."

I shook my head. "I need to do this."

He was hesitant to release me and now, I realize, that was understandable. After Kevin had snuck into our bedroom and tried to kill us both in our sleep, Randy had been more protective inside of the house as well as out. Hell, if it was socially acceptable, he would probably buy me a collar and walk me on a leash. He didn't like it when I was out of his arms and away from him, because that meant that somebody could hurt me. To him, I was a constant damsel in distress.

And I had never minded that, until now. Now, I realized, I needed to be my own person. I needed to seek out the last bit of my family that was still alive and cling to them, because no matter how many times we hurt each other, we were still family and families come together when they need each other most. Something told me that Scott needed me now. I broke out of Randy's arms and followed him outside, ignoring the horrified gasps from Randy's family. I needed this.

Scott led me out into a little garden, where he had taken a seat on an old, rickety wooden bench. He reached into his pocket and took out a pack of red Marlboro lights and lit one with the match in his other hand. When he saw me, he made some room for me on the other side of the bench. I stared at it for a few minutes, thinking. If I got too close to him, let my guard down, would he try to rape me? On my wedding day? And then I threw caution to the wind and sat down.

Scott took a drag off his cigarette, before he turned to look at me. "You look just like her, you know." I was shocked, but I didn't say a word. Instead, I let him continue. "You deserve to know how and why she died."

Now, I was totally confused. I couldn't keep my silence any longer. "What do you mean 'how and why'? She had a heart attack because she couldn't deal with a monster, that's why she died."

"No, that's not it at all." Scott said. "You have it about half right. She couldn't handle him and he was a monster. But she didn't have a heart attack. He killed her. He slipped some arsenic into her tea and paid off the medical examiner."

I blinked, stunned by this new and unfamiliar side of my father. I knew that he was a monster, but this? I had given him the benefit of the doubt and thought that this was out of his realm. "But… why?" I don't know why I asked.

"He needed to keep her quiet. Daddy dearest had always had a soft spot for you. He'd buy you all sorts of expensive toys and lavish you with all kinds of attention." I didn't remember any of this. "But, Johnny boy, Daddy dearest was messed up in the head. Real bad. He groomed you to be the perfect fuck toy, John. That was why it was so easy for…

"I'm not gonna go there. Not today. Not on your wedding day. But as I was saying, he groomed you to be his perfect fuck toy. He was always the one that would help you dress in the morning and get ready for bed. You took all your baths with him. He always punished you. And he was a little too proud of the way you would squirm when he'd spank you.

"Carol noticed and she called him out on it. She wouldn't stand to have you treated like that. She threatened to leave him and to call child services so that we would be taken away from him too. Maybe we would have been better off. In some sick way, we craved the attention he gave you. We envied you because he loved you more than us.

"I have to say, I think Kevin was the worst off. He tried to kill himself, you know?" I shook my head and he continued on without a care. "He took a knife and slit his wrists. Tried to bleed himself dry in his bedroom. But Daddy dearest found him and tore him a new one… literally. Kevin never 'acted out of line' again. Or, at least that's what Daddy dearest said.

"You see, John, to him free thinking was acting out of line. Kevin just couldn't take the pain anymore, so he tried his best to end it own his own terms. He had become right with himself and what he had done and he knew that he was gonna go to Hell anyhow, but Daddy dearest had to keep him here. Which, if you think about it, is hell anyhow.

"I don't pretend to understand why they killed your family, but I assure you that my hands are clean of their blood. I would never hurt a child. But I _do_ think that the weight of all of this damn-near killed Kevin and he just wanted to die. He came to your house to die, John. Not to kill you and Randy, but to _die_."

"How do you explain Glenn and Mark, then?" I asked, my throat suddenly too dry. Tears started to roll down my cheeks and I realized, belatedly, that they were for _Kevin_. My childhood tormentor. It killed me inside to think of him that way.

Scott chuckled blandly, oblivious to my tears. "Good ol' Mark, huh? He married some bitch named Michelle McCool, I think. The fakest blond I have seen in my fifty-seven years. She had him so whipped that you couldn't tell his skin from his blood." Scott laughed freely now, but I couldn't. I remembered Michelle McCool from the bar. How could I forget?

But then, Scott's smile fell. "He killed her. Daddy dearest had bought them this pretty little estate with an extra two-hundred million dollars that he had floating around and they lived there for all of three weeks before he killed her. Threw her out the picture window and she landed like an egg on the asphalt. Police didn't even bat an eye.

"As for Glenn, well, he met a skank by the name of Amy Dumas. I don't use that word lightly, by the way. Daddy dearest didn't like her either. He mentioned something about good girls wearing their pants up around their waists and not sporting a million tattoos. And when he found out she wasn't a virgin, I'm surprised he didn't kill her then and there.

"What saved her? She was pregnant with his baby. They got married and she had the child. Named her Camille or some other shit like that. All I can say is the relationship didn't last long after that. She died. I don't know the exact cause of death, but it isn't often that someone is found with a fireplace instrument lodged into their neck.

"Camille was taken away by child services. I don't know where she is now. After Daddy dearest died, Glenn and Mark must've realized that, since neither had inherited the family business, their time in the family would be short as well. So, sorta like Kevin, they attacked you as an out. They didn't want to carry the burden of life anymore."

I swallowed hard, unsure if I wanted to hear more of this gruesome story. "And what about you? You don't seem apt to try and kill me, so what's your story?"

"Lil' ol' me? I thought that you'd never ask." He gave a big, goofy grin. "I went to rehab and stayed there for six years. That's how you can be sure that my story is true, man. I didn't touch any of your kids. Dad stuck me up with one of those needles and I decided to play chicken with some idiot on a dirt bike. The only problem was the road wasn't finished.

"The other dude was smart. Even if it earned some heat from his buddies, he stopped before he saw the 'End of the Road' sign. I wasn't so lucky. I flew off the side and damn near broke every bone in the upper half of my body. It hurt like hell and I was immediately transported to the hospital, where I spent the next six months of my life."

I nodded blankly as I tried to take all of this in. It was just so much. Kevin tried to commit suicide. Glenn and Mark had gotten married and then they murdered their wives. And Scott had almost died. "Why are you here, then?"

"Well, Johnny boo-ba, I got some news for ya. I'm not sure you want to hear it, but you don't have much of a choice. After all, once you're in the mob, you can _never_ leave. I think you learned that one the hard way."

I bit down on my bottom lip hard and closed my eyes against the pictures of Dwayne and my three boys. "What's the news?"

"Dad left his entire business to _you_."


	37. The Miscarriage

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Mpreg, Incest, Rape, Mob Influence, Murder, Mental Disorders, Bloodshed, etc.

* * *

I couldn't understand what I had just heard. Scott had just told me that my father, my abusive father who had loved me a little more than a father should love his son, had left his entire business to me. Hook, line, and sinker. This, I would later find out, would include the house, all those that worked under him, and the millions of dollars distributed between five different bank accounts in five different states. If I wanted this, I could be set for life.

But this all made me feel so uncomfortable. I felt like this was my father's last card, the Deadman's Hand. He would lay it all out on the table, like the candy in the check-out line, and wait to see how long it took me to break down and cave in to the life that I had always despised. He knew that money was something that I had always wanted for, so he supplied money in excess. A nice car, a nice house, so much money that I would never have to work again. I was a spoiled child.

I rose and brushed some of the dirt off of my slacks. I needed time to think this over and evaluate my situation. "Thanks, Scott. I think that I really needed to be able to see the situation from someone else's perspective."

Scott stubbed out his cigarette on his boot and rose as well. "Yeah, well, I think that we both needed this." Scott smiled ruefully. "I'd like to think of it as a final gold star to see me through to the end."

My relief was stifled by his words. "What is that supposed to mean? You sound like you're heading off to a funeral." It was meant as a joke, but this situation was much, much too serious for jokes.

"Might as well be. The doctor said that I did some serious internal damage when I messed up my skeleton like that. My body is just too old and out of shape to recover from it. He said that I have a month, maybe two if I'm lucky."

I felt my eyes start to water, but I didn't understand why. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Scott, I… that cigarette… the booze at the party… do you _want_ to kill yourself faster?"

"Daddy dearest always said to 'live like you'll die tomorrow', didn't he? Maybe that's what killed the old geezer in the first place. I don't want to die with any regrets, Johnny boy. And I've wanted to tell you this for a long time."

Frantically, I scrubbed at my eyes with my balled-up fists. Scott shot me the 'the baby is crying again' look, but he didn't laugh, and I was thankful for that. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I love you, little bro. Always have." He walked over to me and kissed my forehead. He smelled like cigarette smoke.

I sniffled and couldn't help my immediate response. "I love you too."

He smiled. This time it was broader and more authentic. "Good."

Scott made his way back inside and left me all alone out there. I did my best to compose myself, because it wasn't fair for the bride to break down at his own wedding – that was Randy's mother's job, and she had done an _excellent_ job so far. Once I felt that I had my emotions under control, I went back inside as well. The party had resumed normally and I had Randy to thank for that. One cold glare from the ex-marine was enough to silence any back talk that might come up.

Slowly, I made my way back over to him and slid my arms around his waist, resting my head in the slight dip between his shoulder blades and breathing in his earthy, unadulterated scent. I had always loved that Randy never tried to hide himself behind cologne. He jumped a little bit, but when he looked down and recognized my hands, he relaxed. Cheekily, I asked if I could have this dance. He smirked, nodded, and set his wine tumbler down on the nearest table.

He led me out onto the floor and that tension returned. I could feel all eyes on my back and it made me nervous. Randy must've noticed this as well, because his cold glare had returned, this time followed by a determined set to his brow and a subtle twitch of his upper lip into a snarl. He almost looked _feral_. When the eyes retreated considerably, Randy's hands settled on the small of my back and we started to move around on the floor. Finally, we had become one.

"So, what did Scott want to talk to you about?" Randy asked. I sighed, having known that he would eventually ask and not wanting to talk about it in the least. However, I knew that I had to if I wanted to keep Randy.

"We talked about family issues. He told me about what happened to my father and my brothers after I ran away. God, Randy, there was so much that I didn't know! Kevin, he… he…" I choked back a sob at the memory of it.

Immediately, Randy understood. "Shh… shh, baby, you don't have to say anymore." Randy stroked my hair softly and tried to console me before the tears came. "Whatever he said to you, none of it matters."

I pulled back, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's not what you _know_; it's how you _apply_ what you know. What are you gonna do about what he said?"

What was I going to do? _What was I going to do?_ Didn't he understand that my entire family was dead?! How could I _do_ something about it when all of them were dead? And then, it occurred to me. I remembered that Kane and Amy had had a daughter, named Camille, who had just vanished off the face of the earth. My grandmother would die soon and so would Scott, but Camille, she couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. At that age, it seemed like they would live forever.

"I know what I want to do." I told him firmly.

"And that would be?" Randy asked.

"I want to find Camille."

* * *

As it turned out, it was _a lot_ harder to find Camille than I had first hoped. It tended to be that way when a child is taken into the system because her father murdered her mother with a fireplace tool. First, I tracked her from Massachusetts, where she had been born, to New York. She stayed with a foster family there. I believe that their name was Del Rio. They took in foster children and housed them until they were adopted. But, for some reason, she was moved before then.

After that, she went coastal and ended up in California. There, she was taken in by the Hart family, which was her next foster home. When I looked in on Shawn and Bret, I found that they were a wonderful family. They took excellent care of her as well, but she didn't stay there either. It seemed like her horrific past had followed her all the way to the west coast and after that, she was moved out of the system and transferred into the British System.

That was where I lost her, but I knew that that was where we needed to start. I look all of the information that I had accumulated over the last few weeks – birth certificates, personal identification with birth and death dates for all of my family, a DNA test that showed my relation to Glenn _and_ my relation to Camille. That one had been a little more difficult. Since I had kind of disowned my family and that life, it was hard for me to look at a test result that showed our relation.

"Are you sure that you don't mind having our honeymoon in England? I know that you wanted to go to the Caribbean, but this means _so_ much to me and I know that I need to find her before the trail goes too cold." I said.

Randy shrugged. "As cold as it sounds, I couldn't care less where we have the honeymoon. I can see how much this means to you, baby. You need this and I need you to be able to hold yourself together with something stronger than tape."

I smiled wryly at him. "I really am a basket case, aren't I?"

"Yes." Randy didn't even hesitate and for that, I smacked his shoulder. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

Again, I was reminded of the fact that I hadn't told him about the baby. I was now almost four months into the pregnancy, give or take a few weeks, and I just hadn't found the time to tell him. Maybe I didn't _want_ to tell him. Maybe I was scared to. I know that that sounds kind of stupid, but the more that I think about it, the more that I am sure that it is true. I was scared to tell Randy about the baby because I was afraid to lose the baby.

I had been so excited for the births of my three sons. They were my world and my entire life revolved around them. When they were so brutally torn from my arms, when they were _murdered_, I didn't know how to continue with my existence. It hurt _that_ much. And I'm not sure that I could experience that again. I'm not sure that I could put myself through that high, soar with such indescribable bliss, only to lose it all in the end. To be that _low_ again.

"Are you sure that you're okay, Johnny? Ever since the reception, I've noticed that you've been a little off. I don't want to make you feel pressured or anything, but you're kind of scaring me." Randy said.

I forced my best smile and hurriedly shook my head. "No, no. I'm absolutely fine. I just have a lot to think about with Camille, that's all. It's a lot to take in all at once."

Randy looked at me seriously. "Are you sure that that is all of it?"

I offered him my most naïve look. "I don't understand what you mean. _Of course_ that's all of it."

"John," Randy took me by the hand and stared into my eyes. I could see hurt, confusion, and disbelief swarm in his beautiful cerulean depths. "I don't trust Scott. Whether he is your brother or not… I don't trust him."

Hurriedly, I shook my head. "No. Randy, he wasn't there to hurt me…"

"That doesn't matter. He's done so before."

I swallowed hard. "He's gonna die anyhow, so doesn't he deserve a few minutes of kindness?"

Randy shook his head. "That… that _bastard_ raped you, John! He was the one who held you down while Glenn and Mark almost _killed_ you! And you think that that bastard deserves _kindness_? He deserves to rot!"

I fought my way out of his arms, which was a lot harder than I had first anticipated. With all of my momentum, I stumbled back and hit the wall hard. Immediately, my abdomen started to hurt. "He's the only family I have left."

But Randy's attention was no longer focused on Scott. Instead, his eyes focused on my legs. "Johnny?"

"What? What do you want to yell at me for now?" I sniffled like a baby and rubbed my eyes furiously. I was scared because my husband had my brother's number and I just wanted someone, anyone, to make it out of this alive.

Randy's hand trembled as he motioned to my pants. I looked down as well and saw the blood that stained them. But that,.. that had to be impossible. "Johnny… you're bleeding."


	38. Death of an Addict

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Mpreg, Incest, Rape, Mob Influence, Murder, Mental Disorders, Bloodshed, Suicide, etc.

* * *

Randy looked at me and I could clearly read the terror on his face. "Johnny? You wanna tell me what the hell the matter is? One minute you're fine and the next there is blood all over you!" He didn't mean to, but he screamed.

"No… No… This can't be… This can't… Baby? C'mon, baby… No blood… Blood…" I rambled on and, to be honest, I wasn't exactly sure what had come out of my mouth at that moment.

"Johnny? Johnny, look at me." I could now hear an odd tremor in his voice that I don't think I had ever heard before that moment. It only served to freak me out more. "I can't make any sense of what you're saying. You'll have to -,"

But I cut him off. Somewhere, he had reached out for me and his hands had settled on my shoulders. Now, I yanked myself out of his hold and stumbled back a few steps, only to hit the wall a second time. "_Don't touch me!"_

Randy blinked dumbly, unsure of what to make of this entire uncomfortable situation. "Please, John. Please?"

But I couldn't hear him anymore. I trembled uncontrollably and dashed for the bathroom. "Leave me alone!"

Just before he could follow me inside, I slammed the door in his face and slid the bolt home. I couldn't deal with him, not now. It killed me inside to think that I had let matters roll so far out of my favor that I had let myself become that hysterical. I couldn't blame anyone but myself for the loss of my unborn child. That was what hurt most of all. I was _so_ close. So close to a happiness that I had only ever dreamed of. And in the end, I had cheated myself out of it.

Not knowing what else to do and not quite ready to head to the hospital, because I knew what that entailed, I started to run myself a bath. When the water came as hot as it could, I shed all of my clothes and let them fall to the floor haphazardly. Blood continued to soak my alabaster thighs and I couldn't help but think that this was justice. Justice for all that had happened to me. Justice for the hell that my life had been. I had paid the highest price for my crimes.

Quickly, much too fast to allow my body to become accustomed to the extremely uncomfortable temperature, I dropped my body into the scalding hot water and had to bite holes in my bottom lip to keep my scream at bay. It hurt like hell, but it only would for a moment. And that momentary distraction that would take me out of myself, allow me to focus on something else, was what I needed at that moment. If I focused on the baby, I think I'd go insane.

And it worked, if only for a few seconds. It only took a few seconds for the blood to start to mix with the water. Long, pink strings made colorful swirls in the water. My mind went into overdrive. Frantically, I reached for the pocket of my jeans. Inside, there was a bottle of prescription pills. Pain killers, just like the morphine my father used to shove up my wrist. Why I had them, even I couldn't answer that question. But they were always there when I needed them.

I took four out and dry swallowed them, not remembering that I hadn't been high in almost twenty years and that four morphine pills could very well kill me. That, or I didn't care. The death of my unborn daughter or son had blinded me from the truth. What was that truth? There would always be more children. I still had my Compassion child, I was about to drag Randy to England to try and find Camille, and if need be, we could always adopt. But I couldn't think.

Randy started to knock on the door so hard that I worried he may break it down. But he took a breath, calmed himself, and started over with a sort of eerie calm about him. "John? Are you in there?"

I took a deep breath and tried to hold back the tears, but I failed miserably. The tears wanted to come and they decided that they would come _now_. "I thought that I told you to leave me alone!"

Randy sucked in a harsh breath and it was hard to imagine him _not_ crying on the other side of the door. "Johnny, I'm just worried about you. This isn't normal behavior. Or, at least, I hope it isn't. Talk to me, John. Please?"

I looked down at the pink swirls, which had started to become darker as more blood tainted the water. Soon, this would be a literal blood bath and I worried that I could bleed out. "There's nothing to talk about."

"John, please. I can hear it in your voice. Something is _definitely_ wrong." Randy hissed, now exasperated.

The morphine had started to work and I could feel myself detach from the pain in my abdomen. "Don't care."

"_John?"_ He must've heard the slur in my voice, because now his knocks came with renewed vigor. "What the hell did you _do_, John? Don't make me knock this door down! C'mon, John! Answer me."

Both of us were well aware of the fact that I could be extremely stubborn when I wanted to be. If I didn't want to tell him what the problem was, come hell or high water, he wouldn't get the answer out of me. And I knew that Randy respected me enough (and loved his house, too – why would he spend money to fix a door that didn't _need_ to be broken in the first place) to not knock that door down. After awhile, he would give up and wait for me to come to him.

Lazily, mostly because of the immense amount of morphine in my system – had I bothered to look at the strength of the pills, _no_, but that would have been incredibly smart – I reached into my other pocket and took out my cell phone. The white case was streaked red, but now I couldn't remember why. No matter, I'm sure that it would come to me eventually. Till then, I would have to call someone to take me to the hospital. Scott, yes, I would call Scott.

It took me five tries to remember Scott's number and two more to successfully dial it. Once I had, I waited for my older brother to pick up. This would be his chance to redeem himself. _"Hello. You've reached Scott."_

"Hey, Scotty. It's John. Listen, I need you to do me a huge favor. I need to go to the hospital… like, _now_. Think that I'm bleeding real bad. Can't really tell. Head is all foggy. Feel kinda sick."

_"What the fuck did you do, Johnny-boy? Never mind. Don't answer that. You don't sound like you're in any condition to answer that anyhow."_ And then, a pause. _"Why can't Randy take you to the hospital?"_

"Randy doesn't know about the baby." I said a little too loudly. Momentarily, I had forgotten that Randy was right outside the door. Now, the knocks stopped entirely. "Oh, shit. Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"John?" Randy's voice was softer now and I didn't doubt that he had heard every word of what I said.

"Just… can you come take me to the hospital or not, Scotty?" I slurred. My eyes suddenly felt incredibly heavy.

Finally, reluctantly, he agreed. _"I'm getting too old for this shit, John. If your little lover boy tries anything, I swear I'm gonna tear that bastard a bloody new one."_ Scott hissed threateningly.

I nodded, though he couldn't see it, not at all intimidated. "Cool. Thanks."

I think the phone fell into the bathwater. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. I stretched out and allowed my heavy eyes to fall closed. Randy's knocking on the door was a lullaby of sorts. A sick, twisted lullaby, sure… but it was a lullaby all the same. And if I slid forward and my head fell under the water, I don't remember. All I remember was a conflict in the hall, the door being knocked in, and worried hands traveling all over my naked skin.

* * *

As I had requested, Scott took me to the hospital. Or, at least, I think it was Scott. I could hear two sets of male voices, one on either side of my body, and could recognize one as Scott and the other as Randy. Was it sad to compare them to the angel and devil on my shoulders? I'm not sure which was which, but I _do_ know that it was strangely comforting and uncomfortable to have them both here with me at the same time.

I could feel a certain emptiness within me which could only mean one thing. So, it was true. I had miscarried the baby. Harsh words were exchanged between Scott and Randy and I wondered if they would kill each other right here in the hospital, over my semi-unconscious body. But they didn't. Scott bit out harsh words about how if Randy really loved me, he would've realized that I was pregnant. That shut Randy up real fast.

Consciousness came over me like a flood and I can honestly say that I wasn't thankful for it. Not in the least. At least, unconscious, I could hide from the fact that I had lost the baby and could possibly lose my marriage to Randy as well. God, it had only been a few days since we had walked down the aisle. Our whole lives had been planned out for us. I wanted to finally be happy. I wanted to finally be free. But fate had another plan in store for us.

Instead of being free, I was now bound even more closely to the father that I had thought I had lost. He had left the 'family business' to me. Me. Of all of his children, all of his _faithful_ boys, he had to chose the one that ran away. But somehow, in my sick and twisted mind, it made sense. Scott had said that my father had had a sick fascination with me from the start. So why wouldn't he play mind games with me from beyond the grave? It only made sense.

Terrified, I tried to take a breath in. It didn't work. My lungs were filled with blood and water and I couldn't breathe, no matter how hard I tried. My heart started to race within my chest, beating uncontrollably. Distantly, I could hear the beat of the heart monitor turn from steady to frantic. Both men fell eerily silent, before one, I'm not sure which, mentioned something about life support. Life support? I didn't think I had been under the water that long…

I felt like I was drowning within my own body. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't force enough air into my lungs to do so. And so I just lay there, staring into blackness, knowing that Randy and Scott were watching me die. Honestly, I was thankful for the release. It meant that I didn't have to be strong anymore. It meant that I didn't have to smile when all I wanted to do was break down. No more abuse. No more miscarriages. No more _life_.

Since I didn't leave a successor for the business, it would die with me. And while I did feel bad that I had never found Camille, I couldn't help but think that… she was better off. Randy would move on. The world would continue to turn. And I would be dead. I knew that I wouldn't be missed, but that was okay. Finally, after almost ten years without them, I could hold Dean, Michael, and Liam again. I could be with them again. And with that thought, I surrendered to the blackness…


	39. The End

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.  
**Rated:** M  
**Warning(s):** Slash, Het, Murder, Bloodshed, Mob Influence, Mental Disorders, Rape, Incest, Suicide, etc.

* * *

The funeral was held on a dismal Sunday afternoon. The sun was hidden behind a mystic collaboration of silvery clouds and the air was so cold that one had to wonder if it would start to snow. Nevertheless, one by one, they came to my tombstone and set a flower on the still freshly overturned earth. A pile had started to form there, a lot more than I had ever imagined there would be. It looked like I had touched more people than I thought I had.

Phil was crying. I don't think that I've ever seen him cry before. It made something twist inside of me and all at once I knew that I shouldn't be here, that I didn't _deserve_ to be here. But I continued to watch blankly, a stolid mask on my face. Ted and Cody were there as well. Cody looked awful. As it turned out, he was only ever to have one child. He miscarried three times, and the only child that he was born healthy died in a car-crash at sixteen.

Steph was absolutely heartbroken. She wouldn't leave, no matter how much Hunter pleaded with her. Constantly, she asked my tombstone 'why', as if it would grow a mouth and answer her. Trish was too distraught for words. AJ, unable to hear the truth, just cried. Even my brother was there, standing underneath a nearby tree, a smoke dangling from the corner of his mouth. He wondered if he could have done something more, could have saved me somehow.

Only one person was missing. Randy. I know that I didn't deserve to ask for him, not after the hell that I had put him through… but I _needed_ him. And, as it turned out, he needed me too. Not an hour after the doctor had pronounced me dead; he had taken his own life in the bed that should have been our marital bed. As it turned out, we had never really had a chance to consummate our marriage. And now, he stood on the other side of the field, just staring at me.

"Mommy!" I felt my heart flutter. Even after almost ten years, I would know that little voice _anywhere_. My little boy threw himself into my arms and I spun him around, finally able to _feel_ him and know he wouldn't suddenly vanish.

"Liam? Oh, Mommy missed you so, _so_ much. I'm so sorry, baby. I should have protected you better. I never should have let the bad men hurt you. I'm so, so sorry…" I kissed every inch of his face that I could reach.

Liam giggled and fussed. Even in the dismal light that surrounded us, I could clearly tell that all of the slashes and stab wounds had vanished. "It's not your fault, Mommy. It was never your fault."

I sniffled, trying my best not to cry in front of my son. This was supposed to be a warm, happy moment. There was no need to ruin it with tears. "Where are your brothers?"

As if they had heard me, Dean and Michael suddenly appeared from the fog. "Mommy!" Michael threw himself at me like he was a little boy again, and in my renewed state, I was easily able to catch him.

"Oh God, I missed you boys so much! Dean, why are you still over there? Get over here!" It was a joking order, but still, Dean hesitated. His eyes told a story of disgrace and shame.

"B-But… I told you that I didn't love you anymore, because you were never there for us. I made you upset, that's why you always came home late. You didn't want to come home and see _me_…"

I looked at him as if he had suddenly obtained a third head. "Where is this coming from, Dean?"

"Because you always liked Michael and Liam more and you _know_ it."

This was all a blatant lie and he knew it as well as I did. He was just saying words out of shame because he felt responsible for all that had happened. Trust me, I've told enough of them to know. Gently, I broke away from my two younger sons and made my way over to Dean. Throwing my arms around him, I easily accepted him into our little group. And when his brothers' arms wrapped around him, he broke down into uncontrollable sobs.

And then, the final person emerged from the fog. It was Dwayne. He had a bright smile on his face, but I could clearly see that it was a façade. His eyes didn't hold the same dominating power that they once had held. Somehow, he wasn't quite so mystifying to me now. Telling the boys that they would have plenty of time to play with Mommy later, they ran back into the fog and left the two of us alone.

"Dwayne, I -," I started, but he cut me off.

"You see that man over there?" Dwayne asked as he motioned to Randy. I nodded, confused. "He's the one that really needs you now. He died for you, John. That love… it's more powerful than the one that we shared."

I blinked at him dumbly, not understanding… or maybe not _wanting_ to understand what he was saying. "What do you mean? Are you saying that you don't love me anymore?"

Dwayne shook his head. "No. Not at all. I'm simply saying that Randy loves you more. I endured one battle, he survived the war. He saved you from your family. He married you, despite knowing your full story."

"But… but what about the kids?" I asked lamely.

"We can still share the kids. But, right now, you need to be with Randy." Dwayne said with a smile.

And so, I did exactly that. Randy looked at me with his wide, lifeless blue eyes. I showed him that I hadn't taken his ring off. I was still his, heart, mind, and soul. That rewarded me with a little smile. And I understood that it would take a lot of work to rebuild what we once had. I wasn't under any illusion that it would happen overnight. But I had the rest of forever to spend with him, and as I stared into his dark blue depths, I knew we could handle any obstacle that might arise…


End file.
